Order with A Prefix
by logicallychaotic
Summary: Following Emma's descent into an eating disorder while at the same time her relationship with Will starts to grow as he once again proves to be her knight in shining armor. Could be triggering, so please be careful.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey all, this is my second fanfiction story and it is _very_ different from my first one. First of all, let me explain the large chunk of psychology in the beginning. It has always bothered me that while Emma is credited with having a BA in psychology she never seems to possess any real knowledge on the subject. I happen to be working on a BA in psychology (which is probably why it annoys me so much in retrospect) and I just wanted to show that she is very much aware of what is going on. I apologize that it got so in depth but I assure you there will not be another chapter that does that. Anything from now on will merely be a reference to the hypotheses mentioned below. Now set forth and read!

**Emma's POV**

Looking back Emma wasn't sure when it began and she certainly could not ascertain when it developed into a full-blown disorder. Vaguely she could recall days when she would simply forget to eat without any effort at all, a fact she had forgotten until now. The day she was diagnosed stood out starkly in her mind however, she was sick enough then that the words were like music to her ears. It was tangible proof of her accomplishment, her secret, her weapon against everyone who was more successful than her. Even though no one knew about it, _she did,_ and that was all that mattered. Emma Pillsbury finally had a tiny reason to feel better than those around her. She could do something they couldn't and that knowledge was empowering. Empowerment had always been a rarity in Emma's life. Perhaps, more importantly was that it held at bay her insecurities about failing at life because damnit if she could do this, if she could do _this _than she finally wasn't a failure and in her eyes it meant she never would be.

She wasn't stupid. She knew a lot about anorexia, after all she did have a BA in psychology. She knew that simply calling it anorexia was incorrect, that the term meant nothing more than "without appetite." The "nervosa" was needed, it meant fear. Eating disorders even merited their own category in the DSM. One word had the power to transform a symptom into a disorder.

Emma knew the different hypotheses behind eating disorders. The major branches of psychology all had (and stood by) their own theories. The Behavioral Theory said it was a result of bad parenting, of a perfectionist-minded family environment. Personally Emma didn't care for that one. She didn't care for the Social Theory either. She knew eating disorders were far more complex than people being subjected to unrealistic women on tv or the constant onslaught of diet ads in a society obsessed with being thin.

There were two theories she accepted even though they did slightly contradict one another. In the world of Evolutionary Psychology, psychologist, Shan Guisinger had proposed an eating disorder was a form of a survival mechanism and more importantly he had theorized a reason behind one key difference between people with eating disorders and those forced to starve. Anorexics were hyperactive. They often accomplished unfathomable things while severely sick, many successfully earning not only their Masters but their Ph.d's as well. She often wondered if she would have continued to a higher degree had the disorder manifested while she was working on her Bachelor's. This was the antithesis of people who were forced to starve, they complained of chronic fatigue and no ambition to do any sort of activity even simple ones like getting dressed. Guisinger's theory was labeled The Adaption to Flee Famine Hypothesis and stated that the hyperactivity was a developed to increase one's chances of getting out of a bad environment and finding food. This explained anorexics to some point, although they seemed to be immune to the "finding food" portion something Emma was all too aware of.

By far Emma's favorite theory was the physiological one. The one that proposed that certain people were biologically predispositioned to develop an eating disorder. This only meant their risk factor was higher under certain conditions, especially if anorexia ran in the family. Daughters of anorexic mothers whether actively anorexic while raising their children or recovered were two times more likely to develop an eating disorder. Studies of the brain in both anorexics and a control group of healthy women had shown deficiencies in two areas of the brain integral to factors regarding appetite in the eating disordered group. Causality as of yet was foggy, the chicken or the egg scenario, which came first the disorder or the deficiency?

There were two parts of the brain both located in a structure known as the hypothalamus that were integral to key factors regarding a person's perception of hunger. The Lateral Hypothalamus was responsible for signaling when a person was full and subsequently if this area was not working properly the person never felt full. This was one of the proposed reasons for Binge Eating Disorder. The other part, the Ventro-medial Hypothalamus was responsible for feelings of hunger, logically if this area possessed a deficiency the person never felt hunger, something anorexics claimed to either not experience or had lost completely as their eating disorder worsened.

Emma knew all of this and sometimes she wondered if it put her at a disadvantage, having all this floating around in her head. She knew the symptoms of anorexia by heart. She knew the odd quirks and behaviors anorexics engaged in and once she accepted that she was indeed anorexic she had the mixed blessing of being able to identify them in her own behavior.

The theories provided Emma with concrete proof that maybe she wasn't completely crazy. That maybe in her chaotic brain, her exhausting life that revolved around an irrational fear of germs coupled with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, they were a notion she desperately clung to because in her eyes she was already crazy enough.

* * *

Emma stared at herself in the mirror, mindless to the fact that she had been doing this for over three hours. She contorted her body this way and that, looking at herself from the back, the side, the front. Emma had always been insecure about her looks, afraid that she didn't match up to all of the beautiful women around her but lately that insecurity was morphing into something different. Emma was still dissatisfied with her body but she no longer viewed herself as too skinny. Instead her mind had adopted quite the opposite viewpoint. It was a slow process, her thoughts turning on her like they always had a tendency to do, so slow that she failed to notice it herself and she especially failed to categorize it as something to be concerned about.

Gently Emma took her finger and poked at her thighs. They jiggled. She blanched. _When had that happened, when had she gotten so fat? _This was just another thing to add to her list of failures. The overwhelming sense of being a failure had set in after that fateful day when she was seven and it had never left. She was living a lie, a pseudo life. Who would ever take a high school guidance counselor diagnosed with OCD and Mysophobia seriously? Certainly not the students she was supposed to guide, not when she compulsively rubbed sanitizer onto her hands after even so much as placing a hand on their shoulder in a comforting gesture. No one could take a crazy guidance counselor seriously. They probably all laughed at her behind her back. They probably all laughed at the mockery that was her job, her life. Even Will, she grimaced, as nice and sincere as he seemed he probably joined right in. Now that she finally saw how fat she was there was even more of a reason for them to sneer at her. One more thing she was failing at that they could use as gossip in the teacher's lounge as she took her quiet lunch in her office, sorting her grapes as though her life depended on it.

"You're pathetic," she whispered harshly at her reflection.

There was a decision made in that moment although she didn't really consider it of any importance. It was a decision and nothing more. Walking swiftly into her bedroom Emma violently threw open her closet door glaring at the clothes that seemed to glare right back. _What was she going to wear? Everything was so…revealing._ There was nothing that would hide her body from her peers' accusatory eyes. That thought cinched it, she was going shopping tomorrow. No one should be subjected to looking at her least of all Will she realized glumly.

After finally deciding on an outfit, a pastel blue skirt (the longest one she owned, falling just below her knees) that she noted with relief, at least covered her thighs. Her shirt was simple yet baggy, a long sleeved, slightly darker blue garment made of a heavier material then most of her clothes. Checking her reflection in the mirror one more time she shot a withering look at her chest. She remembered learning in her Human Sexuality psychology class that breasts were nothing more than fat deposits_. _How had she not noticed how horrible they made her look? That should have been a warning bell, she had always wished she was more endowed in that area and somewhere in the back of her mind a little voice questioned her questioning.

Emma arrived at school early as she usually did, straightening her office with a precision only someone with OCD could stand to use. A soft knock at the door interrupted her ritual of aligning her desk calendar with a ruler. Emma's annoyance at the offending person quickly vanished when she saw Will with his boyish grin and sparkling eyes, propped up against the door frame. Just as quickly as that feeling hit another one crashed into her. She had never felt this way around him but this sensation was intense and quickly overrode her initial excitement at seeing him.

She was afraid.

Terrified that Will would be repulsed by the discovery she had made earlier this morning. Gently she pulled her shirt down attempting to cover her body before letting her face forml into a grin she didn't quite believe herself.

Will's grin had faded. _When had that happened?_ Emma felt the fear rising again. There was something she couldn't quite identify in his eyes. Worry? _Disgust probably, _Emma seethed to herself. She felt her fear and shame intensify under his gaze.

_He had noticed._

"New outfit, Em," he questioned.

"…uh…yes, I-I-I just bought it yesterday," she stammered. _Great, Emma that sounded believable._

"Looks nice," Will murmured in a quiet tone that Emma was pretty sure she had never heard before.

_Looks nice because it means I will no longer be forced to stare at your disgusting body, _Emma added. Her face must have given away her intense thoughts because he looked at her again cocking his head to the side like he always did when he was curious.

"You okay Em, you seem a bit distracted today. Did something happen? Usually you are happy when I drop by in the mornings but today you seem reclusive, angry even."

"I'm fine," Emma snapped and immediately regretted it when she saw Will's eyes widen in shock. _Why had she used that tone with him? Oh look Emma, another thing that you fail splendidly at. You're always hurting people. You're a horrible person, _the voice taunted.

Will simply nodded his head almost imperceptibly before turning and slowly walking away. _Great, Emma now look what you've done. Why can't you do anything right?, _Emma seethedunder her breath_._ Distantly something tried to make her realize that the voice had become much more negative than it used to be, much more intrusive, much harder to ignore.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will practically skipped across the Mckinnely High parking lot, barely able to contain his excitement. He loved this time in the morning with Emma and he wouldn't give it up for the world, even if it did mean he had to get up an hour earlier than he normally would. A difficult task for someone who was not a morning person which is why he never left his apartment without a mug of coffee all but glued to his hand. It was worth it. It was always worth it because just seeing the warm smile that spread across her face when he popped in to say hi had him floating on air for the rest of the day.

As he entered the doors of the as-of-yet vacant high school he felt a smile tugging at his lips. He was a free man. His divorce with Terri had finally gone through after months of her dragging it out. He was almost certain that if he hadn't finally come clean about the "baby incident" that he would still be writing checks to his attorney. Emma had been divorced from Carl for a couple of months now. A much larger smile soon graced his entire face as he all but ran down the hallway. He was a free man and Emma, Emma was a free woman. Nothing could bring him down today. Not even his sore shoulder from where he had rather ungracefully collided with a corner after turning too sharply, blinded by his need to see Emma. Still, he had looked around making sure no one had seen. He didn't want anyone learning his secret; he might be one hell of a graceful dancer but in everyday life he was one hell of a klutz.

Will stopped just outside her door, his breath taken away by the sight of her fiery red hair falling over her face as she worked diligently to straighten something on her desk. _She's so cute, _he thought. Raising his hand (and regretting that he didn't use his other hand, as an ache made itself known in his shoulder) he knocked softly arranging himself in what he hoped was a nonchalant posture. He didn't want to come off as too eager.

Emma looked up quickly, a hint of annoyance flickering across her face but in the time it had taken for that one emotion to appear it was replaced with a smile. _The wrong smile, _Will was the smile she gave when she had put her walls up, when she felt insecure, when she wanted everyone to believe everything was alright.

His own smile faded from his lips as he looked at her with concern. He watched as a litany of emotions flickered across her face. Shame, anger…disgust? Her outfit was…off, in fact he had never seen it before. It wasn't very flattering it was almost as if she was attempting to disappear into her clothes. When he asked her about it she replied that she had just bought it yesterday but her voice wavered and she stuttered. She was lying. Will let it slide, he could figure that one out later instead he chose to compliment her. His voice sounded false even to his own ears and he hoped she wouldn't notice.

Something wasn't right, he knew that but what he didn't know was what that something was. Emma was secretive, she didn't want people prying and Will respected that but that did not stop him from inquiring anyways. He felt his eyes widen before he realized he had even spoke when she snapped her reply. She obviously _wasn't_ fine. The only time Emma had ever used that tone with him had been when there was good cause, usually a cause he himself had brought about. His mind briefly flashed back to their public altercation in the lunch room before he refocused his attention on her.

Will studied her intently. It looked like there was a battle going on inside her head and it looked as though she were losing ground fast. Will hated those moments and knew from personal experience that when his conscious was wrestling with him he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. That went against everything he wanted to do, he wanted to hug her, hold her, whisper that it would be okay. Instead he felt his head nod slightly and before he knew it he was working his way slowly to his office the dim hallway only adding to his morose mood.

Will resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be floating on air today and that even though his thoughts would remain firmly affixed on Emma they wouldn't be the thoughts he usually entertained. So it seemed something could bring him down today, the same thing that had the capability to light up his entire world. As he struggled to unlock his office door it hit him that he had not had the chance to tell her about Terri. A heavy sigh escaped his lips before his hand connected loudly with the door.

Sitting behind his desk trying in vain to focus what little attention he had managed to gather on the sheet music in front of him he vowed that he was going to figure what was going on and that once he did he would help her through it, whatever it was.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed, I apologize for any spelling errors. I reread this over and over but I have a disgusting knack for not catching them.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the reviews, they made my day…well the impromptu blizzard that not only caused a late start this morning but also the cancellation of classes tomorrow also made my day but I hand most of the credit to you guys. The credit for the completion of this chapter however, must go to the blizzard. Enjoy, be patient, after this chapter we will finally be getting into some Wemma!

**Emma's POV**

Emma hovered over her neat, wrinkle-free bed scrutinizing her purchases. Overall she was satisfied. She had tried on many different outfits in just as many combinations before deciding on the few things she did buy. Lying before her were four pairs of pants in four different colors all of them baggy enough to disguise the shape of her thighs. One non-form fitting skirt that went well past her knees was also present. It looked decidedly out of place next to the pants even though Emma had always favored skirts. Also lined up neatly were five shirts that varied in style but never diverged from their intended purpose; to hide her body. Emma knew she would receive looks when she showed up in pants but she was prepared to endure them if it meant she was more comfortable. _Any looks you receive will be those of relief, _the voice sneered.

Yesterday she had forgone her usual staple of PB&J deciding only to take her grapes and a cup of yogurt for lunch. It wasn't really a calculated decision. It just seemed healthy, and easy.

This morning as she stood, brow furrowed in her sunlit kitchen it occurred to her that simply taking a packet of the Blueberry Instant Oatmeal she had eaten for breakfast would be the easiest route. On a whim Emma flipped the box over letting her eyes skim the nutrition facts as she reached to remove a packet. 140 calories, before she could stop herself she calculated that 140 calories at breakfast and 140 at lunch would put her at 280 until she ate dinner. Emma chuckled at her actions. She had never counted calories before and she wasn't about to start. _This was simple curiosity, she _told herself_. _The last thing she needed in her life was one more thing to obsess about.

Glancing at the clock Emma realized that for once she had time to kill and nothing to do with it. She had all of her routines meticulously planned down to the minute. They were planned so perfectly in fact that she never ended up with extra time. Extra time had always been an unwelcomed threat in her life because with extra time came the hopeless feeling of not knowing what to do with herself and that scared her. Subsequently, like any person or animal would do she dealt with the situation through avoidance conditioning. Avoid the previously experienced aversive stimulus or situation altogether to avoid the unpleasant consequences usually left in its wake.

She always felt like she should be doing something productive when she had time to kill. Time to_ kill. _An interesting word choice now that she thought about it, what was that quote about not being able to kill time without injuring eternity? Injuring eternity she decided was a very apt way of describing how she felt. If she sat around doing nothing when she could be doing something sooner or later she would regret it. Emma realized that most people felt that way about major things but what she couldn't understand is how they were able to logic away the minor things like going to a movie or taking a nap during the day. She never understood how they couldn't see that those small things, an hour here, five minutes there, those small things added up. One day Emma was confident they would look back and realize their mistake. By then they would have killed too much time and their eternity would be far worse than injured. Their eternity would be gone. Even as a child Emma had upheld this outlook, she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't thought this way and as far as she could see from watching people who had let their lives slip between their fingers, it wasn't a problem.

All of this of course severely skewed her ability to relax. Allowing herself to relax was a luxary she didn't deserve. In Emma's mind things were categorized as one of two things; productive or lazy. This was the reason she always tried to bring work home. This was the reason she kept abreast of the most current academic articles on topics that interested her. This was the reason she watched documentaries and read classic literature and poetry. This was the reason Emma hadn't sat through an entire movie since she was seven years old.

When she did partake in an activity that threatened to be lumped into "lazy," she made it productive. Productive Emma never sat down and just watched a movie. Productive Emma always had a book open, an informative book or worked on projects for school. Sometimes the feeling of guilt over sitting on the couch would become too much forcing her to get up, the tv left to entertain itself while she found something more worthy of her time.

In her world being productive meant being successful and being lazy meant being a failure and that was where everything came full circle. Everything she did in her life, everything that made her who she was revolved around that one word.

* * *

The pants looked weird.

She was never expecting to see them and yet every time she looked down she was fascinated by the way they looked on her. She would watch her legs as she walked taking note of how the fabric bent at the knee to accommodate her strides. It was oddly comforting, having the soft fabric cover her legs. It made her feel safe.

Traversing the hallways before school was not something Emma usually did but the exercise it would afford sounded like a good idea. As she walked her mind was a jumble of confusing thoughts. Some of them were good; she had new clothes, clothes that hid her, clothes that made her feel safe. Some were bad revolving on what might have been going through Will's mind when he spoke with her yesterday. If only she had been able to read his expression. If only she hadn't snapped at him. A few stray thoughts really couldn't be categorized a fact that left Emma feeling distraught. Everything in her life had to be categorized. Things that didn't have a category didn't belong in her life.

So why was a small voice in her head whispering something about burning calories? Why was she trying to recall what she had learned in high school health about metabolic rate, calories, diets and weight loss? Emma pursed her lips and attempted to bury these inner musings under…well anything. It wasn't working. She only ended up delving into the topics more. A bitter laugh punctuated the silence enveloping her. She should have known that technique wouldn't work. Correction, she _knew _that technique didn't work. When you tell yourself to not think about something you are really only setting yourself up to think about it. It was a vicious cycle like everything else in her life.

"Hey Emma, Emma wait up,"

Will's voice cut through her trance. Turning around she noticed his chest rising and falling as he took in deep gulps of air. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to the punch.

"I saw you from the other end of the hallway. You know when you are running this is a really long hallway," he chuckled before his face turned into a lopsided grin.

Emma couldn't help but smile, she loved that expression. It was his expression reserved especially for her and it was the warmth in his eyes It that hushed the condescending voice in her head. She blinked at the sudden clarity not quite sure what to do without the background noise she had grown so accustomed to.

Will motioned in the direction she had been heading in, "Where ya going, usually you're in your office by now sorting the pencils on your desk by color. His expression changed momentarily and Emma could have sworn she saw him blush.

"I just wanted to go for a walk that's all. You know get some exercise because exercise is always good, right? Right, I mean, well you know I just need to get out more, be more active. I don't want to gain anymore weight, I mean-" Her eyes widened, had she just said that out loud?

One look at Will told her she had.

_Emma you have to cover this up, you can't bring up your weight. Are you that stupid? Now he is certainly going to notice your thighs, your hips, you're chest. _Emma stammered, "Not that I'm all that worried about my weight you know, it has just been on my mind, been on the nation's collective mind actually. I mean have you noticed all the diet ads, there is one in like every commercial break and well they make you think about things like how maybe you should shape up or start running every morning like that very dedicated guy down the block, or start walking the hallways before school starts," she finished lamely.

How come a huge gaping hole never appeared when you really needed one?

She had nowhere to go and no excuse to have somewhere other than nowhere to go which left her standing in front of Will holding her breath as she tried to read his face. _When had his facial expressions become unreadable to her? _He wore his heart on his sleeve, he was like an open book but all of a sudden she had no idea what he was thinking.

Emma watched nervously as Will's mouth opened then closed. Twice. Obviously he was trying to figure out what to say but kept abandoning the words at the last minute. _He doesn't want to say anything because he agrees that you are lazy, _the voice hissed. This time it was Emma who replaced "lazy" with "failure."

"Em, Emma, you're not-you don't think that you are-Emma, you don't need to worry about those things."

His voice was so caring, so compassionate. She wanted nothing more than for him to pull her into a long embrace. _Notice how he couldn't figure out what to say, how he avoided the word fat because it's a dirty word, a word reserved for lazy people, like you._ Emma shook her head slightly as if the motion would cease the narration. It didn't work, but it did stop her delusion of Will pulling her into a hug. They stood there for a while, neither knowing what to say, both lost in their own private world.

It was Will who broke the silence, offering to walk with her after politely asking if he could join her in her office for lunch. He said something about Sue and his hair but Emma didn't hear him. _Lunch, he wants to join me for lunch. Oh gosh what if he thinks I'm eating too much? _

_What if he thinks nothing and just wants to spend time with you? _Emma stilled, where had that come from?

_Great_ she thought, _as if one voice wasn't enough now there were two and they were warring with each other. _

"_That would be great Will," _and that time Emma could almost believe there was truth behind those words and maybe there was some truth there if you sifted through all of the lies she told herself first.

* * *

Lunchtime rolled around quicker than Emma had expected it too. She had been pretty busy though. One student had come in face flushed with tears after failing a Spanish test (It's officially very awkward to console a student who is failing the class your best friend teaches, especially when said student knows how close the two of you are,) and just as she had gotten that one out of the door Rachel showed up complaining of Glee, solos and Finn. At least she hadn't asked for advice on sexual matters this time.

Emma sat behind her desk with her bowl of blueberry instant oatmeal centered nicely on a table cloth. She was just about to take a bite when a certain smooth voice gently disturbed the silence.

"Oatmeal, isn't that usually a breakfast food?"

Emma looked up at the owner of the voice before glancing back down at the bowl. "Well yeah, I guess. My mom and I used to have it for lunch when I was a kid," she lied. _Why was she lying to Will?_

Will chuckled, "Okay I can't argue with childhood traditions. I still get sour patch candy every time I go to a movie," he said with a grin.

"If you don't mind my asking, if you are having oatmeal for lunch, what did you have for breakfast?"

Emma paused, unsure of what to say. A million answers ran through her mind but not one of them remained still long enough for her to catch it. The silence seemed deafening. Finally a thought formulated. _At least he doesn't know what is going on in your head. He would run for the door if he did. _Emma wanted to let her head fall into her hands, that wasn't helpful at all.

"Emma?" Will questioned lightly.

"Oh, I had oatmeal this morning too. I was running late and this was easy to pack and…" she trailed off. She really didn't know how to finish that sentence.

Will's brow furrowed slightly as he took in her response but before Emma could even begin to interpret the meaning of that his expression changed back to the Will she knew, the child-like, vibrant Will. "The same thing for two meals, I don't think I could do that. I need me some variety ," he quipped.

"Says the man in his 30's who still eats like a college student," Emma pointed at his miniature frozen pizza and can of Mountain Dew to emphasize her point.

"Touche," he acquiesced, bowing his head a lips pulled into a mock frown. Emma was going to laugh but when his eyes caught hers again all traces of their joking were gone.

"Emma, Terri…the divorce is finalized. I didn't get a chance to tell you that yesterday but I just wanted you to know." It came out as one long run-together spew of words. Almost as if they couldn't wait to leave his mouth, couldn't wait for his lips to properly form the consonants. His voice was full of emotion, relief mingled with sadness mixed with a lightness Emma hadn't heard in a while. It was almost melodic. The broken shell of a man he had been was slowly fading away. He was turning into her Will again.

They finished the rest of their lunch peacefully engaging in meaningless conversation about Glee, faculty gossip and the upcoming Christmas break. "Holiday break," Emma had corrected with an eye roll.

When Will brought up a particular female student who had failed a couple of his Spanish tests, Emma kept her mouth shut.

* * *

A few weeks had passed since the first day they had shared lunch together. It had now become a daily occurrence and Emma found she wasn't quite as nervous about it as time went on but the lingering fear of what he would think when he saw her eating was still there. Somewhere within the past couple weeks she had stopped even attempting to figure out what to take for lunch. Oatmeal was easy. Oatmeal was safe. It never really dawned on Emma that eating oatmeal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner separated by a few handfuls of grapes and her one indulgence of hot chocolate was abnormal because really who was there to tell her? It had become routine and like all the others once it became a daily activity it was no longer abnormal. It just was.

Emma was developing a fascination with mirrors. Any reflective surface she came into contact with provided a venue for her to check for signs of weight loss that somewhere along the way had become a major topic occupying much of her thoughts. She could stand naked in front of her bathroom or bedroom mirror for hours on end. Sometimes she whittled away entire evenings doing nothing else. Never once did it enter her mind that she was being "lazy."

In fact Emma felt quite the opposite. She felt giddy all the time; euphoric. It never ceased to amaze her that she could feel this way for such long periods. Normally her moments of pure happiness were short-lived, shot down by her mysophobia or OCD. This new Emma, she decided, was a thrilling development. Occasionally Emma noticed she was more irritable and anxious, especially around other people but it was a small price to pay for feeling so wonderfully energetic all the time.

Emma was walking through the local Pamida when she noticed a cheap mechanical scale. Staring at it she was overwhelmed with a strange, powerful feeling of possessiveness. That scale was hers, no one else's. It was going to belong to her. She had a connection with that scale. She could already see it sitting in her house. A lady rounded the corner and began to head down the aisle. Emma launched herself forward grabbing the box in front of her while staring wide-eyed at the lady, daring her to try and take it away from her. The other woman merely stopped and read a sign before muttering something about being in the wrong section of the store. Emma sighed with relief. Her scale, hers.

The small white square with black numbers and a red needle was now perched silently a top her table as Emma contemplated what had possessed her to buy it. She hadn't ever owned a scale. She had never needed one. Her weight always stayed the same, perpetually stuck at 119. Emma had often thought about how odd it was that it never got up to an even 120 but then again she was odd so why shouldn't her weight be the same?

Emma watched as her hand reached out in slow motion to take hold of the object. She watched as her feet carried her towards the bathroom. Dimly she was aware of a voice saying something about scales being the most accurate on hard floors. Again she stared at her hand, transfixed as it made sure the scale was zeroed like she had done it a thousand times. She caught her reflection in the mirror as she removed her clothing. Stepping onto the scale Emma growled in frustration when she realized she was too far away to read the numbers. Her dad had told her once that it didn't matter how you positioned yourself on a scale so long as you were balanced. So she sat, legs raised up in the air, knees bent towards her chest, looking between her thighs at the number the red needle had chosen to land on.

108.

Emma stared. _108, could she have really lost 11 pounds in the past few weeks. She tried to remember how long she had been eating bowls of oatmeal but it had never been a conscious decision so she had no idea, but 11 pounds! _Emma grinned,this was success. This was something she could lord over her coworkers. This was productive. This meant she wasn't going to fail at life because if she could accomplish something so many failed at than she could do anything.

**Will's POV**

Will couldn't think of a response. Well, it wasn't that he couldn't think of one, he could think of a million if his mind would only slow enough for him to latch onto one. What came out was more a jumbled mess that left him wishing he had just left his mouth closed after the first time he opened it and nothing came out.

"Em, Emma, you're not-you don't think that you are-Emma, you don't need to worry about those things."

His only saving grace was that he had managed to not insert "sweetie," after her nickname because if he were honest with himself that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to do a lot of things. He wanted to convince her she was beautiful, cup her face and gently brush his lips against hers to kiss away her insecurities. He wanted to make her feel loved.

He asked if he could join her for lunch.

He was surprised when he saw Emma sitting primly in front of a bowl of oatmeal. He was even more surprised when she lied to him again. Will was perceptive, he noticed how her gaze failed to meet his as she told him how it was something she had done often with her mom. He would let this one slide too he decided mentally adding it to his "Ask Emma Later" list. It was troubling enough to even have such a list, let alone be adding to it.

The rest of their meal carried on uneventfully although Will was certain he saw the beginnings of a smirk when he mentioned his failing Spanish student.

* * *

Reviews are like the wind picking up after ten inches of snow has fallen causing your college to cancel classes! (It's only the second day of classes after break lol.)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: As promised there is some definite Wemma in this chapter! Now I'm off seeing as mother nature decided to play nice ensuring I have classes tomorrow.

**Emma's POV**

It had been on hell of a week. It was only Monday but after the day she had drug herself through Emma decided that it had felt more like a week. With Christmas Break (Really who could remember to say Holiday or Semester Break?) getting closer and closer on the calendar the busier and busier she got. They were only two times that she absolutely without a doubt hated being a high school guidance counselor. Both of those times shared thr common theme of students asking advice on what classes to take. Emma didn't mind helping them, she would do anything for the kids but spending hour after hour discussing courses left Emma exhausted.

She also could probably recite the course call numbers in her sleep.

Finally she could go home. Finally she could-A rhythmic knock on her office door replaced her tiresome thoughts with a youthful smile. Only one person would knock on her door like that.

Sure enough there stood Will looking amazing in a blue sweater vest a top a lighter blue button-down shirt complete with black slacks and black tie. His mouth quirked up into a smile,

"What was the song," he asked excitedly.

"Jingle Bells," Emma replied before he could even get the whole question out. "That one is easy Will. Everyone gets that one."

"Watch it miss," Will said in a mock regal tone, "I know more songs than you do, many with very complex rhythms. I was merely going easy on you. Next time I won't be so nice."

Emma laughed softly. He was right. She was never going to be able to guess a song correctly again with his repertoire. Smoothing her hand over some wrinkles in her pants Emma looked up at him from behind her desk.

"Is there something I can help you with, or are you attempting to perfect the art of being a wall ornament." Emma couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice. He looked adorable. He looked nervous. He looked like he was…blushing?

She watched as Will took a deep breath before responding. "Emma, I was wondering if maybe-"he paused, "maybe you would want to go out, out like on a date out, this Friday," he finished looking pleased with himself.

Now Emma really couldn't contain her grin. She tried not to sound like the blushing schoolgirl she felt like as she told him that yes, she would like that very much. A time was set, 7pm and a place, her place to be exact. Will wanted to eat out but didn't want to subject her to a public restaurant so he had offered instead to bring the food to her. _He's so sweet, so thoughtful. _Warm thoughts quickly turned to ice as one concept sunk in.

_Food. _

_He's bringing food and you don't know what it will be. You don't know if it will be safe. How are you going to eat unsafe food in front of him? _Emma silently argued with the voice, telling it to shut up, ordering it to stop interfering with her life, her life with Will. Again, Emma was brought back to reality when Will gently cleared his throat. _Was he the only thing keeping her grounded anymore?_

"Really? Oh yes of course really, you said yes. Um okay I will see you on Friday at seven," the words flew out in a whoosh and if Emma hadn't been listening closely she probably wouldn't have even caught them.

Will turned to leave, pivoting swiftly on his heel as he began walking towards her door. _He's so graceful. What would it be like to have that much control over your body, she wondered._

The resounding crack that cut through the silence in her small office as Will, rather ungracefully she noted, collided with the door frame on his way out produced the first real laugh Emma had felt herself give in a long time.

* * *

Emma growled in frustration as she fumbled with the keys to her door and wondered why it was that she had assumed she could carry two boxes, one full of course descriptions, in one trip. Shifting her weight she entertained the idea of having a third hand before deciding that would only draw too much attention. During her musings, the problem had chosen to solve itself. McKinnely High course books were strewn everywhere. Emma groaned. _Did the box really have to have flipped upside down before it crashed to the floor? Was she really that stupid that she hadn't stapled those papers together?_

Just as she was bending down to pick up the nearest sheet paper, Spanish 2 oddly enough, a shrill, obnoxious tone pierced the air. She had set that ringtone for her mother on purpose. It was the most annoying one on her phone which is what made it a perfect fit for her mother. Now every time she heard it (even if it was someone else's phone or on the TV) she couldn't stop the wave of dread that would wash over her. Emma had always hated Pavlovian conditioning. Attempting to ignore the mess around her as she flipped open her phone was a nice idea in theory but Emma was Emma and she couldn't just _ignore_ a mess.

"Emma, dear, how are you? How is that teacher friend of yours, you know the cute one who sings? I'm in town. I'm on my way over, Godfather's is having a special. I'm coming to pick you up now. I should be there in an hour," her mother's southern drawl filtered out of the tiny speaker and into her ear.

Click.

Emma blinked trying to process all of that information. _Why does she always think phone conversations are a one-way operation? How come she never plans anything? What the hell is she doing here from Virginia? How come Will was the second thing she asked about? _

_Godfather's._

Emma was sure the blood has just drained from her face. Her mom was coming over. Correction; her mom was in the process of coming over to take her to Godfather's, where there were germs, public restrooms and buffets full of food kept at just the right temperature for bacteria. Oddly enough those thingswhich normally would have sent her into a frenzied panic had taken a back seat to the idea that there was going to be food. She was going to have to eat food, food that wasn't safe.

Collecting her papers and for once not organizing them into straight stacks Emma quickly unlocked her door barely able to think as she barged into her apartment. Her mind was focused on one thing. She was going to have to eat unsafe food. There was simply no way around it, she had never known a Godfather's to serve oatmeal.

The antique wooden clock on the wall informed her that it was exactly six in the evening. She had an hour. One hour. Emma wasn't really thinking like herself anymore, her thoughts were not secured in neat little categories and her mind refused to remedy the problem.

Clothes began flying off as she raced towards the bathroom. _Weight, I need to know my weight so that when I get home tonight I can see how much damage I have done. Why is this happening now? Everything was going so well._

The scale was in its usual place, a cupboard to the left of the sink, the closest one to the bathroom door. It had been "The Scale's Cupboard," for a while now. Emma never put anything else there. It was a special place reserved for a special possession.

Sitting as carefully as she could Emma closed her eyes for a few seconds before chancing to look down. _Just know Emma, know that it is probably going to say something like 110. _She always overshot her estimate when she did this. It was a hell of a lot easier than thinking about how low her weight might be and having the needle stubbornly plant itself at a higher value. She never watched the needle anymore. It was superstitious but she somehow believed that if she watched where it landed it wouldn't read correctly. So she closed her eyes, held her breath and overestimated.

99.

Ninety-nine Emma thought, she could live with that. Ninety-nine was good. She had never thought she would get to ninety-nine. The pleasure derived from passing the one-hundred mark was intoxicating.

_Ninety-nine is only one pound away from 100. That's too close. It needs be lower._

Emma deflated, so much for feeling as though she had accomplished something. The voice was right. One pound was not enough leeway. She needed that leeway in case something came up and she was forced to eat more than she wanted to. _Like if your mom drives across entire states to take you to Godfather's. _No, ninety-nine wasn't good enough.

* * *

Restaurants were really modern-day torture chambers.

Oh they did a good job of trying to convince you otherwise with their friendly workers, colorful menus and soft acoustic music but really their only purpose was to turn your money into oversized pitri dishes full of breeding bacteria.

Her mom had wanted the buffet and Emma had jumped at the chance. If she ate at the buffet she could decide her portions and more importantly she could use her mysophobia to her advantage, an added reason to not eat much.

Grabbing a plate Emma followed behind her mom silently. It wasn't that she didn't love her mom, she thought to herself. She did, a lot, it's just that they had never agreed on things. Her mom was impulsive often buying things they didn't need. Emma couldn't even remember how many times she had glared at a new frying pan that she was going to have to force into a cupboard somewhere. They had never agreed on the house either and Emma had started cleaning it while she was still in grade school, even then she couldn't stand messes. She remembered getting up at 5am when it was still dark outside to start vacuuming her room.

They had gotten into a lot of arguments over the years, many stemming from frustration on both parts over Emma's mysophobia and OCD. Afterwards, her mom was always return home with something, a small purchase of some kind. She would never really say sorry but would hand over whatever she had picked up for Emma with an excited look on her face, commenting that she had seen it and had immediately thought of her. Emma always accepted these offerings but more often than not she would have rather accepted an apology.

To this day Emma hated it when someone bought something for her "just because" because "just because" translated into "I'm sorry, here will this make it better?"

There was so much food. Emma felt her senses overloading. Everything seemed heightened it was like she could smell the individual ingredients that comprised the dishes in front of her. Logic abandoned her altogether when her mother placed a slice of pepperoni pizza on her plate.

Suddenly Emma's hands were flying everywhere, grabbing everything they could. Somewhere locked safely away from reality Emma was aware of a voice that was screaming at her to stop. She didn't. Emma watched as the food began piling up.

Pepperoni pizza, cheese pizza (two slices) raw pepperoni, mashed potatoes, two dinner rolls, hamburger pizza, chicken wings, barbeque chicken wings, macaroni and cheese…

Emma wasn't allowing herself to stop and really consider what she was had never felt this out of control before, like she couldn't stop the food from passing her lips even if she had wanted to. The food didn't have any taste but she really didn't care about that as she crammed bite after bite into her mouth.

"Wow, Emma, what were you doing today that you have worked up such an appetite, and you look too skinny Emma, are you losing weight?"

_Can't she see that I'm eating? Wait, what if she thinks it disgusting that you are eating at all? What if she sees you as nothing more than a fat slob that is shoveling copious amounts of food into her mouth? Food you don't deserve. What if she is thinking about how lazy you are, about how you probably sit around and do nothing all day but eat?_

Emma closed her eyes trying to stop the inner conflict before lying, "Oh, I was helping with Glee rehearsal afterschool today. I, I mean Will, he needed help with some dance moves that he didn't really feel comfortable doing with any of the female students. Just lifts and things but the hand placements made him nervous and well he didn't want to do them with Rachel because he doesn't want to encourage her crush on him…so he asked me."

Her mother seemed to have completely forgotten about her second question. "Ohh, Will, that must be your teacher friend. He's quite the looker if I remember correctly. I would love it if he asked to demonstrate dance lifts with me," she trailed off suggestively.

"Mom!"

"I'm just sayin' honey, he's a catch. Don't let him get away." And with a wink her mom was headed back towards the buffet. Emma looked at her plate through one narrowed eye. Yep, it was slicked off. She really shouldn't go get desert but what was the point she had already blown the whole day, the whole week. It was going to take forever to get back to where she was. Suddenly ninety-nine didn't sound all that bad.

* * *

Emma felt like she really had been practicing dance lifts by the time she hauled herself up the stairs to her apartment. She was exhausted, sluggish. Everything required so much effort. Normally she was so energetic. She didn't like this feeling, she didn't like it one bit.

A piece of information fell into place in her mind. Something she had learned in an abnormal psychology class. _Anorexics often tended to complain of being overly tired during the refeeding phase, perhaps because their bodies are overwhelmed by the process of digestion after subsisting so long on minimal amounts of food._

That was the first time she used the word in reference to herself and oddly enough it didn't scare her as much as she thought it would or thought it should have. She repeated it over and over to herself under her breath. It wasn't a realization, she didn't really think she was anorexic it just felt nice sliding off her tongue. She liked the way it sounded too, the way it hung in the air suspended on words like "dangerous" and "success."

It was while attempting to forget her actions at Godfather's that Emma remembered her date with Will the next night and it was that one realization that had hurtled her into her newest predicament.

Emma shook slightly as she stared at the eye-level porcelain bowl in front of her. She had read about this, about girls who threw up their food to keep from gaining weight. That had always seemed so disgusting to her. It was surprisingly common though, more than one student at McKinnely high had sought her advice on the topic.

Emma never thought she would be trying to spoon-feed that advice back to herself.

_Don't try to stop yourself Emma. You need to do this. You saw yourself in the mirror. It doesn't matter if you think this is disgusting or beneath you, you did this to yourself and you are going pay the consequences. You don't want him to see you like this._

Before the one-sided argument could play out any further Emma had shoved her index finger down her throat. Frantically she moved it around searching for a place that would give her what she wanted. Her eyes started to water and finally she gagged. She looked, there was nothing in the water. _Toilet water,_ her mind added. Determined she jammed her finger into her mouth again and again she gagged but this time she felt something come up. Peering into the bowl she saw portions of partially digested cheesecake. _Disgusting, stop this, think of all the germs. Think of the acid on your teeth._

The sight of those pieces of food floating in the water brought such an intense feeling of relief. _I have to get it out, _she thought.

Emma stood up carefully as she reached out to flush the contents of the toilet. What had she just done? How had her mysophobia allowed her to do something like that? How had she allowed _herself_ to do something like that?

_Maybe an eating disorder is the cure for mysophobia._

That was the thought that accompanied Emma while she cleaned the bathroom, brushed her teeth (six times) and climbed into bed. Before closing her eyes it dawned on her that she had never asked her mother why she was in Ohio and that her mother had never offered the information.

**Will's POV**

Will stood anxiously outside Emma's office working up his nerve. He wasn't going to back out now, he wasn't. _Should I have brought flowers, would that be too tacky?_

Firming his resolve he began to knock on her door, it hadn't started out to be a song but when you're a music teacher and you hear two steady beats the only logical thing to follow should be another beat right?

He knocked three more times in the same rhythm. He had just knocked on her door six times that had to be overkill but who couldn't resist finishing the opening measures of Jingle Bells?

He felt his mouth settle into a smile when he saw her face peek around and just as quickly he forgot everything he had planned to say.

"What was the song?" he asked, forcing excitement into his voice and praying her answer would give him enough time to collect his thoughts. The question wasn't even out of his mouth before a deadpanned "jingle bells" rang out.

Why did that song have to be so popular?

After commenting that he had merely been making things easy for her he was once again at a loss for what to do.

He was starting to panic when a prompt from Emma allowed him to finally locate some words. No, he was not practicing to be a wall ornament, he was here to ask her out and damnit that is what he was going to do.

Will breathed deep and almost lost it as his mind decided to focus on how he was breathing in as though he were going to be singing a sustained note. He couldn't help it anymore it was so ingrained into his psyche.

"Emma, I was wondering if maybe-"He paused. _How come he couldn't think of the next word? "_maybe you would want to go out, out like on a date, out, this Friday?" He resisted the urge to pat himself on the back. Sure that was nowhere near how it had sounded as he had rehearsed it on the drive over but he had gotten the question out without having to resort to charades.

The familiar feeling of floating on air had returned as Emma had said yes, it had also deflated in a familiar fashion as he watched her face. In the span of a second her bright small had faltered into an expression that could only be described as fear. Will didn't know what to do. Well, he was pretty sure he wasn't going to do anything because he didn't know what to do. He was just going to wait this out, he was going to wait for her exp-

The tickle in the back of his throat had other ideas. Will struggled to hold back the throat clearing that he knew was inevitable.

His valiant effort lasted all of five seconds.

Thankfully it seemed that the sound had brought Emma out of herself and back into the real world. It also caused him to realize he hadn't responded yet.

"Really? Oh yes of course really, you said yes. Um okay I will see you on Friday at seven," He paused, replaying the sounds that had just issued from his mouth. Even he had a hard time figuring what he had been trying to say and he was the one who said it. He was a singer and as such he should be more than capable of consonant sounds. _Except around her, it all goes out the window around her._

Nothing was going right here. He was not coming off as the suave, polished guy that he had envisioned. He needed something to redeem himself. With one last grin in Emma's direction he pivoted sharply on his heel, letting his arms fly out so that the action appeared more of a dance move than anything else. Feeling like maybe he had snagged back some of his dignity he started towards the door.

He lost all of that dignity and then some when his head came into contact with hard wood.

* * *

Will checked himself in a window as he walked past Emma's apartment building. It was finally Friday and he was finally going to go on a real date with Emma. The botched attempt at a first date didn't count.

Will thought for a moment before he began knocking on her door singing silently to himself. He had her this time, he knew it.

A muffled "Silent Night," issued from behind the door.

Damn.

He smiled as he allowed his gaze to land on Emma he had been wondering what she would choose to wear. Sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt had never factored into the equation though. Suddenly he wanted to run home and chance. Suddenly his tight jeans and form fitting blue t-shirt seemed like too much, and the flowers, well he wished those would just disappear.

"Em, are you okay?" His eyes rested on hers as he waited for her answer his heart sinking at the thought of having to cancel their date. He had listened carefully as she told him about how sick she had felt after she got home from school but he gave up on trying to follow her words when he noticed she wouldn't look him in the eye. Lie number three, he thought to himself. This time he wasn't going to let it slide, not if it meant he didn't get to spend the evening with her. This time he wanted answers.

A soft "You can still come in, I've been looking forward to this night all week and I don't want you to go," permeated his small waves of anger. _She's been looking forward to this, to me, she wants me to stay!_ Answers, he resolved, could wait.

In the end Emma hadn't wanted anything to eat so he had merely fixed her a steaming mug of lemon tea with honey and suggested a movie.

As the opening credits of RENT started Will gently lowered himself to the couch beside Emma, careful to not touch her. It was during the ridiculously long note at the end of the title song that he had cautiously asked if he could place his arm around her.

By Today 4 U, Emma's laughter at the absurdity of the lyrics had caused her to lean forward slightly giving him just enough time to move so that when she fell back towards the couch she was partially supported by him. He smiled to himself when he felt her snuggle closer.

Somewhere in between Life Support and Over the Moon Emma had ended up sprawled half-way across his chest, her hand wrapped softly in the fabric of his shirt while her head rested over his heart. He searched desperately for a reason to explain his rapid pulse if she asked.

Which is what led him to sing along with La Vie Boheme. It was an exciting song, perfectly capable of raising one's heart rate as they sang along with it. Emma laughed as he tripped over the waiter's speedy run-through of what the group had ordered. Will didn't care.

He continued to sing through "Here Goes" but this time he let his voice adopt a much gentler tone and positioned his lips so that they were next to Emma's ear. He felt her breathing quicken. Will thought about all the things he should tell her as he matched his voice with Roger's, there were so many things, he didn't even know where to start. Glancing up at the screen he watched the couple draw closer together in the snow. Roger appeared to know where to start. Roger was a pretty smart guy and before Will knew it he had brought his hand up and gently cupped Emma's chin, lifting her face so that her lips were inches from his. He waited until the last note ended before he softly brushed his lips against hers unsure of how she would react.

He felt her mouth open slightly under his so he did the same, content to let her choose how this went, he was just overjoyed to be kissing her. _Kissing Emma._

In the distance he heard the opening chords to La Vie Boheme B but he didn't want to sing anymore, he was perfectly satisfied doing just this.

It was her tongue that ran across his bottom lip not the other way around. Apparently Will should be giving himself more credit because the thoughts that wandered across his mind about germs and mysophobia were surprisingly coherent.

Slowly he let his tongue slip into her mouth and noted that she tasted of the lemon tea and honey she had drank earlier and then all thoughts of anything except Emma ceased. Except for one when she had moaned softly, _he had caused that sound._

Emma tensed.

Will froze.

Unwrapping himself from her he pulled away preparing himself for the sight of a fearful, apologetic Emma. What he got however was a face full of fiery red hair. She wasn't looking at him she was staring at the TV and it wasn't because of the movie.

**Emma's POV**

_She was kissing Will. _

Kissing and Will were two words she never allowed to reside together but now she was actually doing it. Surprisingly it didn't bother her that his mouth was on hers or that her tongue of its own accord suddenly darted out to trace his bottom lip. When his tongue found its way into her mouth she could no longer hold back the small moan that had been threatening to escape. She hoped he hadn't heard that. How embarrassing to moan at a simple kiss!

Even though all of her senses should have been trained on Will her sense of hearing decided to take leave.

"…pain, perfection, muscle spasms, chiropractors, short careers, _eating disorders."_

Emma stopped, unable to do anything but replay those last two words over and over in her head as she turned to stare in horror at the screen. She wasn't aware of anything except those words, not even the deadly silent Will who was staring at the back of her head.

**Will's POV**

After a bit of awkwardness on both their parts after the kiss Emma had once again settled against him this time using him as more of a pillow with her back to his chest. She had fallen asleep during the second half of the movie, Will couldn't say where though because as soon as her eyes had closed he didn't have to pretend to be watching it anymore.

This was the first time he had ever been able to just look at her, to memorize every little thing about her that he loved while discovering so many more. He loved the way her hair fell across her face, how her mouth was parted slightly as her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of sleep. He loved how her hand was wrapped in his.

He was never going to leave this couch. Even if she slept for 50 years he would be more than happy to be her pillow.

Slowly so he didn't wake her be placed an arm around her stomach and was surprised when he didn't come into contact with skin as quickly as he thought he should have. Carefully he let his hand splay out across her, his pinkie gracing her hipbone. _Were her hipbones always this prominent? That doesn't feel healthy._ Will halted his thoughts before they could go any farther. It wasn't like he had any previous encounters like this with Emma to draw off of.

Feeling her hipbone was making him uncomfortable so he gingerly removed his hand and brought it down a little bit higher than it had been before. He was about to settle back against the couch when Emma stirred slightly almost falling on to the floor. He added more pressure to the hand on her stomach and shifted his weight so she was on top of him.

At that moment Will should have been overjoyed at the situation he was currently in. He was lying on his back on Emma's couch with a sleeping Emma sprawled across him. Her head was tucked just under his chin and her one hand was still resting in his. He should have been the happiest man alive but all of that was pushed away when he had held her closer to pull her more safely onto the couch.

Under his hand he had felt bone.

He had felt her ribs and against his better judgment had allowed his hand to follow along them. It was when he realized he could count them that happiness fled completely.

_How long had she been not feeling well, was it affecting her ability to eat? How had he not noticed the now obvious weight loss? Was it more than not feeling well, was there something much more serious going on with his Emma?_

Will wasn't sure what was going on but ideas were beginning to take shape. He wasn't going to bring this up. How could he? He knew how insecure Emma was about her body and if he brought up her weight and this was all just the result of a bad cold he would never forgive himself. He wasn't going to bring it up but he was going to be watching her much closer.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you so very much for all of the nice reviews. I could tell people were reading, or at least opening the story but I had no idea about their thoughts were. I wasn't sure if I was going to have Will start to notice in the last chapter nor not but as I was writing it it seemed like it would have been impossible for him not to. My updates may be slightly more sporadic. I have a couple classes with rather heavy reading-oriented homework loads.

**Will's POV**

His neck was killing him. It felt like he had slept with his head at a severe 90 degree angle as he blinked trying to clear the sleep from his eyes and figure out where he was. This definitely wasn't his couch it way to comfortable and it had flowers. Definitely not his couch. Terri had taken most of his furniture and almost everything he owned now had come from local garage sales but none of it had flowers. He did have to maintain some sort of standard.

_Emma's. I'm still at Emma's. I must have fallen asleep at some point. Did we sleep the whole night on the couch? Did we sleep the whole night on the couch together?_

The events of last night began to bubble to the surface and even as tired as he was he found the energy to smile. He had sung to her, they had kissed, she had tasted amazing. He had felt her ribs. He had been able to count her ribs. Will leisurely stood up stretching experimentally to ascertain just how painful the day was going to be. Yep. The kids were definitely doing the dancing today the mere thought of partaking in any of the choreography making him cringe.

Noticing a faint glow spilling into the hallway he gradually began to make his way over. It wasn't like he was trying to spy on her. Well, maybe he was. An earlier glance at the clock had told him he wouldn't have time to run back to his apartment before school started. Glancing down Will took in his decidedly not teacherly ensemble. What he was wearing now was a far cry from slacks and a button down beneath a sweater vest. The extra set of clothes he had placed in his office in case he became the next victim of a slushie attack was now proving to have been a very good idea.

Will crept down the hallway whispering a tiny thanks for when the floor didn't creak beneath him. He could see the pattern of light being disrupted occasionally. She was definitely in there. As quietly as he could Will settled himself out of view of her view and in view of the door his body poised for action in case she started to walk out or worse was actually using the bathroom. _Emma wouldn't go to the bathroom with the door open._ He doubted she would do that even if she was the only one here.

He could see her knees as she knelt in front of a cupboard. _I can see her knees. Is she naked? What in the world is she doing sitting naked on the floor. That has to be cold. _He watched her tiny arm reach out cautiously toward the ground-level door before her. It was on the left, the closest to the door. Not that he was snooping of course. Her hand was shaking slightly and lingered in midair as if she had initiated the action before she had actually thought it through. Will frowned, that wasn't like Emma. Her planned to the letter routines were integral to the completion of her day. She never did anything on the spur of the moment. _Except go to Vegas and marry Carl_. Okay, time for a cognitive shift. Even though Carl had been nothing but wonderful to Emma Will still hated the guy's guts and he really didn't care that his reasons were skewed. Emma belonged with him, not a dentist.

Apparently Emma couldn't follow through with what her intention snatching her hand away like it had been burned. Before he really ponder the matter she started to get up.

It was beyond difficult to make a hasty retreat when you where trying to not make any noise. It was especially difficult crashed into an end table that seemed to jump out of nowhere. Actually, Will noticed the end table seemed to actually be in the middle of nowhere. It was an end table, why the heck wasn't it at the end of something? Will bit his lip to hold off a hiss of pain. That was going to leave a bruise. Frantically he searched for a reason to have been stumbling around in the dark. He couldn't go back to the couch because Emma would have obviously heard his losing battle with a piece of furniture. _I need to just accept that all traces of dignity are forever to be non-existent around her._

As he attempted to steady his breathing he listened acutely for clues as to what Emma was doing closing his eyes when he heard the bathroom door gently click closed. Groping along the wall for a light switch on his way to the kitchen with one hand outstretched before him in case anymore not illogically placed inanimate objects had it out for him he shuffled in the direction of the kitchen. His fingers connected with a switch that he hoped was the kitchen light. It had to be the kitchen light. He was a guy and as such possessed an innate sense of direction. Will struggled to hold his eyes open in the room was illuminated.

Well, he knew where the laundry room was now.

Retracing his path his fingers located another switch and with a silent prayer he flipped it on. Light flooded the space around him and he almost chuckled at the sheer _Emma-ness_ that enveloped him. The walls were a light yellow, the counters a light pastel blue. It was bright and cheery and unique just like her. The black thing on the counter certainly stood out. His eyes were finally beginning to focus and as he walked towards it he realized it was a small coffee maker. Having bought hera rather expensive tea kettle last Christmas after she had walked in to the lunchroom more than upset that she had dropped hers he knew she only made tea on the stove. The microwave was hands-down the most useful invention ever. He would never have the patience to make tea on the stove. _Unless it was for her._

Since he was up, and he definitely still needed to clear his head he began searching cupboards for a can of coffee. There had to be a can of coffee somewhere. He quickened his pace when he soon realized that there were far too many choices and he seemed to perpetually making the wrong one. It didn't escape his notice that there was a surprising lack of food. No cans of vegetables or soup, no cooking ingredients, not even crackers but there were more kinds of tea than he knew existed stacked neatly on top of one another each one with the title facing forward. He was down to the last cupboard. Grabbing onto the small knob his eyes widened when he looked inside. Well, he had found the coffee and the first food item he had yet to run across. Sitting just beneath the Foldger's can were two cans of generic oatmeal. _Oatmeal?_ His mind flashed back to all of their lunches together over the course the weeks. Now that he really thought about it that was all she had ever brought to school. He had been so wrapped up in just being in the room with her,fumbling for conversation topics so he wouldn't just sit there and stare like a lovesick puppy that he hadn't really paid attention to her lunch. _That was stupid. I should have noticed that._ _Maybe she just needs to go grocery shopping I know when I'm not feeling well I run pretty low in the food department. _The title wasn't facing forward, this time he staring at nutrition facts. _140 calories, why is my mind registering details now?_ Snatching up the can of coffee and closing the door gently he studied the coffee maker before taking a couple strides to the sink. Emma already knew he was up so he wasn't really sure why he was standing there letting the water trickle into the pot.

Emma's soft "Good morning" caused him to jump nearly cracking his head on an overhanging cupboard. Emma already dressed for the day her red hair curled flawlessly perfectly framing her face.

"I can make the coffee. I got pretty good at it. Carl drank it every morning. Go get washed up, we don't have much time." Will was sure she could hear his heart sink. He had been hoping she had bought the coffee maker and coffee for him like he had the tea and tea kettle that had not been touched since Emma had been over that one night for her.

"Great," Will replied.

"Bathroom is just down the hall and to your left, first door." _Did that mean she didn't know he had been outside the door? _He decided on that option not caring to think he had made his presence known until he had run into the end table and by then he had been back in the living room. Perfectly logical.

Carefully setting the pot down next to the sink he side-stepped Emma resisting the urge to kiss her good morning.

The bathroom was just like the kitchen. Soft pastels covered the walls and the towels were a light pink. _If I were a washcloth in Emma's bathroom where would I be?_ He had already decided he wasn't going to shower he wasn't exactly sure how Emma would feel about his "germs" being in her shower. Although, she had been the one to deepen the kiss last night a pleasant surprise that still left him grinning like an idiot. His eyes fell on the cupboard next to the sink. _What was in there? What was she so apprehensive about? _He wasn't snooping. He wasn't. Pulling the door open his head tilted in confusion. _A scale?_ Gently moving it to the side his hopes of her reaching for something else were shot to hell when his gaze was returned by bare cupboard space. _Why was she going to weigh herself? _Washing off hastily he set out in search of Emma.

Creeping down the hall agains he poked his head around the corner to the kitchen. _What am I doing? Why don't I just walk in, it's not there isn't an excuse. The coffee is done._ _I'm not snooping. I'm not._

Will watched as Emma grabbed a glass pyrex measuring cup before setting out both the oatmeal and a canister of what he assumed was sugar. Everything about her actions was so practiced as if she had been doing this every morning for a very long time. She deftly removed the lid before dumping some oatmeal in to the cup. _Okay, she's measuring her oatmeal, no big deal. You have to measure that stuff._ He had learned that the hard way. He had also learned that same morning that exploded oatmeal was a bitch to clean out of a microwave. Emma knelt down in front of the counter so that she eye level with the cup, her tongue sticking out slightly in a look of concentration. He could tell from here that there was probably a little over a half-cup of oats. Emma picked up the cup dumping a small amount back in the container before repeating her earlier examination. Again she dumped more out. Will told himself it was probably just her OCD, with Emma everything had to be perfect. She dumped the oats into a bowl before repeating the entire process this time with water. She refilled the cup four times before she finally added the liquid.

After getting over the shock of seeing Emma use a microwave for something that could have been done on the stove his suspicion of the canister containing sugar was confirmed. Three heaping table spoons soon rested on top of the oatmeal. That was a lot of sugar even for him and he was notorious for his sweet tooth. Sometimes he felt like a five-year old when he was around candy.

Will pushed himself past the corner deciding to make himself known before Emma did it for him. Heading toward the coffee pot he refrained from commenting on her breakfast choice adding yet another thing to his ever growing list. Really he should probably sit down and right out a real list. There was no way he was going to remember all of this stuff.

"Mind if I make some?" He asked motioning towards the bowl. He hated oatmeal. Hated it and usually breakfast was his biggest meal of the day but for some reason he didn't want it to be big this morning. _Maybe because there is no pancake mix he thought. _

"Uh…sure go right ahead, "the note of apprehension in her voice did not go unnoticed.

Soon both were sitting at the table in front of their respective bowls Will having used far less precision then Emma had some very runny oatmeal. He watched her watched her out of the corner of his eye as she took her long-handled spoon and very slowly raised it to her lips doing the same with each successive bite. Will had never seen someone eat a bowl of oatmeal so deliberately slow. She did a lot of weird things in the morning, weird even for Emma. She had gone to weigh herself (and maybe she still had, she had closed the door after all,) she had measured her oatmeal with a care that Will was starting to doubt was merely a symptom of OCD and she had painstakingly eaten said oatmeal bite by bite with a long-handled spoon. _Who used a long-handled spoon?_ That didn't really make sense and Emma usually always made sense except lately, lately she hadn't really doing things very logically at all. Obsessively correct, yes. Logically, no. He definitely was going to make a list. None of this prevented him from trying to convince himself that this none of this was really nothing more than Emma being Emma.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

She had spent the entire night sleeping on the couch. _On top of Will._ The aches in her body were worth it, everything was worth it for Will. _Including losing this weight._

Somehow she managed to crawl off without waking him up. He looked so cute, his head turned to the left on the armrest propped up at an angle Emma was sure was going to afford him an atrocious crick for the rest of the day. His curls were sticking everywhere and she fought the urge to run her hand through them. He looked so peaceful like this.

Once in the bathroom Emma thought about her next move. She always weighed herself in the mornings it was the first thing she did after getting out of bed unless she had to go the bathroom. Even though she knew that wasn't really classified as losing weight if there was even the slightest chance it would make the needle go lower she was going to do it.

Forgetting to close the door entirely she turned on the light, she removed her clothes and took up her usual spot in front of the cupboard. Tentatively she reached her hand out but she couldn't quite make herself open the door. _This is stupid Emma. You don't really need to weigh yourself besides you are probably going to see the effects of Godfathers and that is going to accomplish nothing more than ruining your day before it even begins. _The probability of the scale reading higher than 100 caused her to roughly pull her hand back to her chest. She could go one morning without weighing herself. It would work out in her favor when she weighed herself tomorrow morning. Emma stood up and concluded that Will must have been up when she heard the distinctive sound of a body part colliding with furniture. He certainly ran into a lot of things. The sight of the partially opened door stopped the smile at the unexpected klutz that was Will in everyday life. As gently as she could she cut off the stream of light coming from the bathroom.

Will was making coffee. She smiled to herself before telling him to go wash up. Hastily she had added that Carl had drank it every morning so she knew how to make it too embarrassed to tell him that she had bought the appliance shortly after their first date and had poured many pots of the brown substance down the drain but before the night was up she knew how to make coffee. She could tell she had hurt his feelings. _Nice way to start the day Emma, hurting someone. Hurting Will. _

The rest of her morning had gone by peacefully enough as she went about her ritualized preparation of her breakfast. Will had opted to eat oatmeal too which to her displayed the consistency of something more in line with lumpy soup.

* * *

Two very different ring tones clashed as both their cell phones went off at the same time. They had just been ready to walk out the door. Both of them exchanged a bemused smile as they quickly moved to put an end to the dissonance. Emma knew who was calling she had set McKinnely high's number to an upbeat song hoping that it would alleviate the worry she always entertained when the school called. An automated female voice had her running to the window in seconds Will right on her heels. He had apparently received the same call.

There next action was pointless and she was sure they both knew it. Automated phone calls only came for one reason. Looking out the window Emma's eyes widened in shock. Ten inches of snow must have blanketed everything in sight. Including their cars, parked side by side an enormous drift having taken shape between them coming almost to the roof of Will's small Bomber. Emma didn't remember anything about snow when she had checked the forecast a few days ago. Up until now the weather had been relatively mild for winter in Ohio and she had been hoping it would stay that way after the havoc Old Man Winter had wreaked the last season. _Welcome winter in Ohio, I haven't missed you._

The wind was picking up as the snow continued to fall. Really it was sort of pretty unless she thought about the fact that Will was going to be unable to get back to his apartment. He was going to be spending the entire day with her. Even though her mind was racing to come up with excuses to stick to her Oatmeal diet she was elated that she was going to have a whole day of this gorgeous man at her side to herself. In fact she was so elated that maybe she would eat something different if nothing else to dissuade any suspicions Will might be forming. He had been watching her a bit more closely after last night, studying her more and Emma was certain he was trying to hide that fact. She hoped he hadn't felt anything through her layers of clothing. She had been unbearably warm last night, partly due to her proximity to Will but mostly due to the tank stop, long-sleeved shirt and sweatshirt she had been wearing. He couldn't have noticed anything. Besides it's not like she was noticeably skinny anyways. No one had ever said anything to her so she _knew _she didn't look any thinner than she had before. Her frequent examinations in front of a mirror had confirmed that fact on more than once occasion. Turning to face Will she her eyes silently questioned if he had known anything about the snow.

"No idea, Em. Really I don't know why any of us bother to even check the forecast around here. They are always wrong when it come to snow. Mind if I stay here for the day?" His looked almost incandescent and he was obviously fighting to keep his lips from curving into a grin.

_No of course I don't mind. I would absolutely love that. I can't even believe this how perfect. An entire day with you! An entire day to learn everything I can about you. Favorite color, book, movie, season, day of the week, quote, how you behave outside of school, facial expressions, eye color, to possibly kiss you more. _

She caught and successfully squandered the blush she could feel rising before refocusing her mind on something a bit more acceptable. Maybe she could entice him to sing for her, okay she knew she could entice him to sing for her. He always wanted to sing and often he would randomly break into song when someone said something that reminded him of one a small blush forming the confused expression of whoever he was talking to caused him to stop. Emma always smiled, and often he finished the song looking directly into her eyes. She could drown herself in his eyes. A smirk started to form when she looked the brown curls a top his head. She didn't have any hair gel. She could finally get an answer to that question, not that she would divulge that information, least of all to Sue. She wouldn't subject Will to that torture. He must have noticed the smirk and the direction of her gaze.

"…and the long-postulated truth finally comes out. You got me, oh god _please _don't tell Sue, "he blurted.

"Only if you sing for me, and play a game of favorites. I want to learn everything about you."

Well, crap that was rather forward of her. The wide grin that broke through his panic was a relief. Apparently he wanted to play favorites to.

"I would sing anything for you, sweetie. Anything you want, even a country song I know you secretly like them. I have heard you singing them on more than one occasion and I'm hedging a bit that you grew up to the sound of that twang, and I would absolutely love to play favorites, even twenty questions. I want to learn everything about you too. You captivate me Emma Pillsbury"

* * *

**Will's POV**

He hated country, the songs were predictable, the twang was annoying as hell, the only time he had ever had Glee perform one was he had stupidly decided to let April join, and more stupidly allowed her to spend the night even though nothing had happened. Emma had given him the cold shoulder for quite a while after that and he had often wondered if Sue had had a hand in that.

Replaying his words, (an aggravating habit because most of the time he would rather remain oblivious to his verbal idiocy) he realized he had called her sweetie. Apprehensively he searched her face. She was smiling. Will was elated, he could finally say that out loud and not use it in his head nearly every time he addressed her. Hell, he was more than elated he was floating on air, the air only Emma could create. _I love her._

_Thank god I didn't say that out loud._ He was going to have to keep his words firmly in check around her, unless maybe he chose a song with those words. That would be acceptable, lyrics were just lyrics and everyone wrote about love.

This was going to be an amazing day. He had never been so happy to have a snow day in his life which included the fort-building, epic snowball fight filled snow days of his childhood.

Taking her chin in his hand so her eyes met his he slowly allowed himself to lean forward, his mouth dangerously close to hers before he pulled away sharply with a malicious grin.

"Favorite color."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Okay guys be forewarned this chapter is intense. I want to clarify that Emma is not becoming bulimic, she is experiencing a phase that many anorexics go through. There is usually a small length of time where the person absolutely cannot control themselves before they return back to restricting. The next few chapters are not going to be light and fluffy but it's not entirely due to the eating disorder. Emma is going to have some pretty serious life-altering events to tackle but don't she will have Will to help her through:)

**Emma's POV**

Emma tried not to appear too flustered by Will's almost-kiss.

"Yellow. Okay my turn!" hers eyes practically danced with excitement.

"Favorite movie."

Will did a quick dance step before singing, "I'm singin' in the rain, just singin' in the rain. What a glorious feeling I'm happy again. I'm laughing at clouds so dark above and I'm singing, singing in the rain."

Emma rolled her eyes of course she should have expected that. Will had been a ball of barely containable energy when he had convinced the Glee club to do songs from Singin' In the Rain.

Will appeared to be considering his options before voicing his next question.

"Favorite food," he asked staring directly at her.

Emma felt her mouth fall open slightly as she took a step back, a physical recoil from the word that represented her darkest fears. _I'm taking too long. Most people would be able to answer this in a heartbeat. I can't say oatmeal. Think Emma._

"My mother's home-made oatmeal cookies," Her answer still contained oatmeal but it was true or at least it had been true before everything other than generic brand oatmeal had been classified as unsafe. She wasn't really lying.

Will beamed, "Cookies. I love cookies."

"You know, I think I have a pair of sweatpants in my car left over from a basketball game." Noticing Emma's expression he quickly added, "Don't worry their clean. I'm going to run out and get them. I really don't want to spend the whole day in these jeans."

Emma's eyes widened, "You can't be serious, you'll be soaked and it's cold and how are you going to get into your car anyways it's buried."

"I've got my ways," Will proclaimed in a care-free tone.

Staring at him like he was insane Emma soon felt like she was insane when she found herself agreeing to go out with him. She would have said no if he hadn't sounded so cute when he had mentioned that cuddling on the couch with hot chocolate was an excellent way to warm up. Okay to be honest with even if he hadn't sounded cute she would have still agreed. The idea of being close to Will was worth freezing weather, ten inch snow…_anything_.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Laughing as Emma tried to make her way through a particularly deep drift that had taken up residence right outside her door Will carefully headed in the direction of his car. He would have continued in that direction if Emma's plea for help hadn't sounded so desperate. _Cute, adorable, irresistible. _

She really was stuck, the snow was up to her hips and he could tell she was having trouble lifting her legs up to get out. Every time she tried the snow simply gave way beneath her. Grinning without break at her predicament Will trudged back to her placing himself just out of her reach.

"Having problems ma'am?"he asked trying to hide his sly smile as he tried even harder to adopt the authoritative tone of a police officer.

Emma glared before her lips settled into a pout.

_Who could resist that? _Will inclined his head slightly before reaching his hand out allowing her to use it as an anchor. It wasn't working and he could tell her frustration was becoming more akin to embarrassment. _That won't do. _Carefully moving towards he whispered, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Although Will could see that she was apprehensive obviously wondering what he was about to do.

Bending down Will smoothly placed one arm at the back of her knees and another just above her shoulders. Emma let out a surprised squeal as he swiftly picked her up rescuing her from her entrapment bridal-style. After a few steps Emma had started laughing, her laughter causing him to laugh and his laughter causing him to bring his foot down somewhere other than the foot hole he had made earlier. Will tightened his grip on Emma. His earlier comment about his dignity forever being non-existent resurfaced as he fell backwards in slow motion landing on his rear that normally would have been one hell of an impact if it hadn't been buffeted by the snow. _Thank god for snow. _Will shyly looked up, Emma's eyes were twinkling as she tried to maintain an annoyed expression. Will offered his lopsided grin the one he knew always got to her and made a comment about how he would have had his sweatpants by now if it hadn't been for a certain damsel in distress.

All that earned him was an unrealistically hard slap on the shoulder.

He was sure his butt was going to freeze off as the snow quickly soaked its way through his jeans but he didn't care. He was sitting with Emma on his lap, his arms wrapped around her back and more importantly she was beaming at him, a look of child-like glee that he had only caught her wearing a handful of times.

Will yelped as he felt cold snow covering his face. Before he could even think about retaliation it had begun sliding down the front of his jacket, burning as it began to melt a stream down his body. Hastily Will shifted bringing his hands up to wipe the snow from his eyes forgetting entirely about his snow-packed gloves. All he managed to do was smear more snow across his face and worsen the burning.

"You're going to pay for that."

Not giving Emma a chance to respond Will grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back in the snow applying more pressure as she struggled to get up. Her hair was strewn about her face quickly becoming damp under the affects of the snow. Her red nose blending in with her red cheeks as she stared up at him. _How can one person be so damn irresistible?_

Will silently stared into her eyes as he gradually lowered his head towards hers stopping again to hover just above her mouth..

"You're adorable you know that."

Will closed the distance between them allowing his lips to meld with hers. The kiss was slow, languid and full of passion and as far as Will was concerned it could go on forever. Emma's mouth opened underneath his and he gently slipped his tongue inside probing hers attempting to memorize every inch. He was momentarily surprised when Emma's tongue all but forced her way into his mouth initiating a duel that Will was all too happy to compete. Experimentally he pressed his mouth harder against hers delighting in the moan that it had caused. His body was beginning to react and Will quickly removed the lower half of his body from hers certain that Emma wasn't ready to feel…_that_, at least not yet. He brought one gloved hand up tothe the side of her face tracing the outline of her cheek before he pulled back simply staring down at her.

"I'm afraid, m'lady, jeans are not adequate attire for kissing in the snow so let's go warm up and I will hope I regain the sensation in my butt." His voice faltered as he pictured them continuing their earlier actions on the couch.

Emma didn't say anything but simply nodded her face crimson from a combination of the cold and their kiss. Will stood up extending a hand to help her overestimating the amount of strength to use causing her to grab onto his chest to keep from falling back down. _She's very light. Too light?_

After successfully tackling the snow drifts that lay in between him and his car. (He only fell once.) Will bounded across the yard back to where Emma was standing on the porch her pink-gloved hands tightly clenched at her chest. _Now how come I didn't fall that time?_

The distinct sound of an engine appeared behind him and Will turned to see a UPS truck stopping in front of the apartment complex. _That's either dedication or a shit boss, Will thought._

A man dressed in brown hollered through the side-door, asking for a Miss Pillsbury. Will headed over to save him the trouble of having to get out of the truck signing for the package before waving him off.

Emma had yet to touch the package. She had set it on the table and never looked at it again. Well, that wasn't exactly true. On more than one occasion he had caught her stealing glances.

"Oh, come on Em, if you don't open it I will."

Emma approaching it like dog ready that was prepared to flee at any moment. Retrieving a pair of scissors from a drawer she unhurriedly cut the packaging tape her hands gripping the table as she looked inside. Will bounced up behind her he had always loved getting packages. He smiled when he saw a small note written in what was clearly a woman's loopy script.

"To Emma, I know how much you love these. Love you. Mom" Will read quietly.

"Aww that's so sweet and hey it looks like there are some oatmeal cookies in there," he added inspecting her reaction. She looked as though her world had just imploded.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

It had all been going so well. Playing favorites, kissing in the snow…_How can she manage to screw everything up when she's not even in the same state? _The box in front of her represented her entire world, her every fear. She had to get it out of here somehow. _Maybe I can convince Will to eat all the cookies. Maybe I can only pretend to eat a couple. Maybe I could throw them out when he isn't watching. _

Emma didn't even want to touch the box, terrified that as soon as her hands closed around food that the fat would transmit to her via osmosis, or worse, that she wouldn't be able to control herself. She didn't want to show Will that side of her. No one should bear witness to that side of her. Just when she was starting to feel like she was getting everything back on track a simple package was derailing her confidence. Peering over the edge while keeping her body as far away from the object as possible a wave of panic slammed into her like a freight train. There weren't just cookies in there. Her mom had sent Reeses and Little Debbie Fancy Cakes as well. Emma felt her breathing intensify as her heart began to pound. _No, No, No, you cannot, you will not do this in front of him. _

Before she could embarrass herself further Emma darted to the bathroom slamming the door behind her. With wild eyes she tore off her shirt turning her body to the side focusing her eyes on the full-length mirror. _Okay, I can still see my ribs. I'm okay. This is nothing I can't handle. I can still see my ribs. I'm okay. _While she waited for her breath to slow she repeated that line to herself over and over again. By the time she returned to the kitchen it was her mantra.

Will was sitting calmly at the table although when he glanced up at her Emma saw the confusion in his eyes. He didn't say anything though. Emma almost wished he would have maybe then this would be less awkward. Maybe if he had been preparing to address her freak-out he wouldn't have set two plates on the table each containing a cookie.

Emma wanted to run.

"Hey, sit down. Have a cookie." And Emma could have sworn she detected worry in his hushed tone.

As she crossed the floor Emma was positive that her world was going to cave in around her, her eyes fixated only on the threat in front of her. It was as if she was wearing blinders. Nothing else was visible except what lay straight ahead.

Will jumped up to pull her chair out and normally she would have felt a warm, fuzzy feeling at the gesture but she wasn't feeling anything right now except an overwhelming urge to flee. Sitting back down Will took a large bite motioning for her to do the same. Emma stared. _You can't let on. You have to act normal. What the hell is wrong with you? It's just one cookie._

Tentatively she reached her hand out cringing as her fingers landed on the soft exterior of the treat she had once loved so much. She tried to take a normal sized bite but all she had managed so far was for her hand to become paralyzed half way to her mouth as the voice came back full force. _Go ahead, eat up. Get fat. God knows how many calories are in that thing. He's going to think you are disgusting. You are disgusting. Eat it. Fail at this like you do everything else. Show him how much of a failure you really are._

Emma could feel her lips pressing into a tight line as she fought to hold back tears as she inch by inch by brought the cookie closer to her mouth. Barely touching it with her teeth she took a small nibble not daring to glance at Will. She continued to nibble each time the voice screaming at her that she was going to be fat, that she was worthless, a failure. A failure that will never be loved. After what seemed like hours all that remained were the crumbs on her plate. Emma looked down at her lap before chancing a peek at Will. He was staring not saying anything and once again she wondered when she had lost the ability to read his every expression.

* * *

**Will's POV**

He knew she was on the verge of a panic attack it was visible in her eyes. She looked wild. It was a side of Emma he had never seen and he wasn't sure he liked it. He didn't like anything that caused her pain. For what seemed like the hundredth time he wished he knew what was going through her mind.

Not quite sure what to do after Emma had dashed out of the room he devised an experiment. He knew it wasn't the nicest thing to do but he wanted to know the results. Grabbing two small plates from a cupboard he placed them on the table before scooping up two cookies.

When Emma entered the room he remained quiet. He had already decided not to say anything. He didn't want to alert her to anything and he wanted to see her reaction to the next event. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she took bite after agonizing bite with a pace that was slower than she had used with her oatmeal. He really hadn't thought that possible. Her face kept contorting into different emotions, anger then fear, disgust and then back to anger. She looked nothing like someone enjoying a favorite childhood food. She looked like someone who was living their worst nightmare. Will slyly glanced down at his phone, he had started the timer as she had taken her first bite.

Ten minutes.

Once again deciding not to push the issue (and wondering when he actually would) Will simply cleaned up the dishes and went to change into his sweatpants. As he entered the living room he noticed that Emma had changed her clothes as well. Drowning the oversized sweatshirt and sweat pants she had worn the other night.

Flopping back onto the couch Will pulled down the blanket that was neatly draped across the back covering himself and holding up one end in invitation. Emma produced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes before joining him and leaning into his embrace.

"I'm still cold," She muttered.

"I think I can help with that." Will replied, tightening his grip around her waist before shifting them to a more comfortable position that he hoped she would be okay with. Will was propped against the armrest, one leg bent at the knee against the back of the couch and the other straight out. Emma was snuggled in between his legs, with her head just beneath his chin. A contented sigh whooshed out of his mouth as he wrapped his arms around her pulling her flush against his chest. _Well she's not freaking out yet._

Humming to find the correct pitch Will softly began to sing his voice seeming to echo in the silence of the room. It was getting dark out which normally would have annoyed him but he welcomed it tonight. Being here with Emma, holding her during the night just sounded…right.

_Where do I begin my love?_

_Starting with the things_

_I haven't said enough of_

_Starting with the day you changed my life_

_And ending with the way I feel tonight_

_Where do I begin?_

_Where do I belong if you're not here?_

_This is way beyond my darkest fear_

_Don't know I end and where I start_

_This mile in between is way too far_

_Where do I begin?_

_I've always counted all my blessings_

_Knowing you'd defend me_

_Stand by my side_

_If only I didn't lose my senses_

_Each time I intended _

_For these words to come out right._

Will let the last line hang in the air, hoping that Emma knew what words the song was alluding to. Looking down at her he saw silent understanding resting in her eyes as she brought her face up to his in a tender kiss. Will loosened his grip so that she could turn towards him while he scooted down so just his head was raised by the arm rest. Emma settled herself on top of him never breaking the kiss. _Emma is kissing me. Emma is kissing me and she's lying on top of me. _

Deepening the kiss Emma brought her hand up running it through his curls. Taking a chance Will began to place soft kisses along her jaw line slowly working his way down the side of her neck. He smiled against her when a particular kiss just below her ear caused her to shiver. Emma rolled her head to the side exposing creamy skin that he couldn't wait to taste. Resuming his trail along her neck he stopped and sucked momentarily on her pulse point careful not to leave a mark. Emma moaned into his chest and Will decided that the sound of her making noises like that was a melody far beyond the capability of any music.

Feeling brave Will rotated them so that she was lying on her outside her back to the outside of the couch. He scooted back as much as he could wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her close. He returned his lips to her mouth caressing her lips with languid kisses. Pulling away so that he could look into her eyes as he repeated his earlier words,

"Do you trust me?"

Emma nodded her eyes locked on his.

Gently Will lifted his body up so that he could slide Emma beneath him placing his arms on either side of her head, allowing his elbows to support his weight.

"Is this okay?"

Emma wrapped her arms around his neck pulling his lips to hers once again. Will kissed her contentedly before allowing his lips to forge a trail down the other side of her neck. Apparently the spot below her ear affected her the same way regardless of which side he was on. Continuing his way down he very gently allowed his lips to ghost along her collar bone mentally noting how prominent it was. Sliding one hand down the side of her body he let it hover just above the bottom hem of her sweatshirt searching her eyes for any indication of fear. The only thing he saw was arousal and that was more than enough for him. Dropping his hand he began to slowly raise her sweatshirt his eyes closing when his hand connected with her warm skin. Emma moaned again this time arching her body upwards. Will chuckled once again raising up slightly so she wouldn't feel the effect she was having on him. It was when he started moving his hand up her torso that she tensed and roughly grabbed his hand. Will remained completely still unsure of what he should do kicking himself for pushing her too far.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

She must have died and gone to heaven. Lying beneath Will sharing leisurely kisses was officially her new definition of heaven. She didn't even know about that spot below her ear and this time she wasn't embarrassed at her small moans. She was lost in the sensations he was evoking too much to care.

_His hand is sliding up your shirt._

Emma reacted before she had time to really consider what she was doing, taking his wrist in hers and forcibly removing it. _He can't touch you there. He will feel how fat you are. _

Pangs of guilt shot through her as she watched Will's eyes turn from arousal to shock as he hung his head letting a long burst of air escape his lips.

"Emma, oh god Em, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Honey we don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with okay. Please never feel like you have to do something because of me. Emma, I'm sorry. I should have stopped."

She wanted nothing more than to explain that it wasn't him that she had been enjoying his hands on her body. That it was the voice that had ruined everything, the way it always did.

"It's not you," Emma whispered, "It's me," she ended, her voice barely detectable even to herself.

"Let's just cuddle okay?"

Pushing against his chest so that Will would move she lifted her body off the couch before turning and reaching out to take Will's hand in her own, gently tugging so that he would get up.

"Em?" He questioned, clearly unsure of what she was doing.

"It's okay, the couch isn't very comfortable and I don't know about you but I really don't want to sleep on it again but I really would miss your arms around me."

Gently she led Will down the hallway that led to her bedroom leaving the light off as she pulled him onto the bed with her. She waited until he was situated before pushing herself back against him as much as she could willing the action to wipe away her shame. His arm reached out and wrapped around her waist and she could feel his warm breath hitting the back of her neck.

"Hold me."

"You never have to ask that Em, I will always hold you. I will always keep you safe." He gave her a small squeeze before whispering a soft good night into her neck.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will had never been a heavy sleeper so he really wasn't surprised when the sound of a closing door woke him up. He didn't even have to open his eyes to know that he was alone in the bed. _What is she doing going outside at one in the morning?_

Creeping down her hallway was becoming a regular occurrence for him.

Stopping in front of the living room window he moved the blinds slightly looking into the night. There was just enough light from a street lamp that he could make out her sillhouhette against the snow. She was walking purposefully towards an already overflowing dumpster clutching a trash bag to her chest. Trying to convince himself that maybe she just took her trash out at night was not working. As Will stood there pondering her actions he almost missed her entering the front door of the building. Bolting back to the bedroom, he didn't even make it to the bed before jumping in and throwing the covers over his body.

The door to her apartment opened and closed and before long he heard her soft foot falls moving down the hallway. He closed his eyes concentrating on evening out his breathing. The mattress dipped down slightly as Emma crawled into bed this time snuggling up behind him letting out a long sigh. Will's mind was racing but he forced himself to relax and was soon drifting in and out of sleep.

There were sounds coming from the kitchen and Emma was gone once again.

Groaning into the pillow Will forced his tired muscles to function. Stealthily moving down the hallway for the second time that night he approached the kitchen avoiding the small beam of light that illuminated a line across the carpet. Hugging the wall he positioned himself much like he had done by the bathroom door, so that he could see her and she couldn't see him. Her back was turned as she kneeled on the ground and Will thought that maybe she was cleaning. Narrowing his eyes he noticed that there was a white trash bag sitting in front of her with an ever-growing pile of wrappers at her side. Emma changed positions slightly affording Will a view of her face. His eyes widened when he saw what was happening.

Scattered around her were the wrappers to what could only have been the entire box of Fancy Cakes as well as more than a handful of the Reeses ones. Will watched in horror as Emma reached into the bag pulling out oatmeal cookies and stuffing them into her mouth so fast that large chunks were falling to the floor. Her eyes held the same wild look he had seen earlier.

Will couldn't deny what he was seeing and as much as he wanted to he couldn't rationalize it away. Never in a million years would he have pictured mysophobic, OCD Emma shoving food into her mouth that had been in the dumpster not hours earlier. Absolutely none of this made sense but Will's mind was fitting the pieces together faster than he was producing a conclusion he desperately didn't want to believe.

_Eating disorder._

Making up his mind Will lightly stepped into the kitchen kneeling down in front of Emma he moved to take the three cookies held captive in her hand. It was clear that she was looking right through him. She didn't even realize he was there. As his hand drew nearer to hers Emma let out a scream and jumped away backing herself into a corner gripping the cookies so tightly that they started to crumble. Will stayed where he was for a few seconds before adopting the least threatening position he could think of and inching across the floor watching her for any sign that she was going to bolt.

"Em, Emma, listen it's me Will. Emma I won't try to take them away okay. I just want to help you. Emma can you hear me? Will kept his voice hushed as he crawled closer to her shaking form.

Her eyes were beginning to clear and he could see the tears forming. Soon her entire body was wracked with sobs as she let what remained of the cookies fall to the floor producing wails so loud they almost hurt his hears. Moving quickly now he positioned himself between her and the wall before gathering her into his arms holding a firm grip on her wrists as she tried to claw her way free.

"Shhh, Emma, sweetie just calm down. Listen to my breathing Em, match your breaths with mine. You're okay Em, you're ok." Will wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

He could feel her stacatto gulps of air turning into a semblance of normal breathing.

"There ya go, that's it. Good girl, "He cooed into her ear, "I've got you."

Leaning closer Will realized she was muttering things under her breath. He slowed his breathing as much as he could trying to hear what she was saying.

"Why are you so fucking fat? Can't you do anything? Look at what you did, you stupid fat bitch. You are going to gain ten pounds or worse. How fucking stupid are you? Do you have no control? Are you trying to ruin everything? You were at 96. You were at 96. This is just like you. You always fuck everything up. You will always be a failure. He's going to leave you. No one could ever love someone as fucked up as you."

Will sat in shock. He had never heard Emma swear and he had definitely never heard that much venom in her voice before. Her tone dripped of pure hatred. He didn't know what to say or if he should say anything at all. The last thing she said though, he couldn't let that go.

"That's not true sweetie. I love you and you're not fucked up, a little confused maybe, but not fucked up," He breathed into her ear and his heart broke as a fresh wave of sobs shook her body.

"I have to get it out. I have to make this right. He's going to think I'm disgusting. I have to get it out.

Emma tore herself away from him with such a violent force that he was unable to hold her back. She was still talking to herself, which meant she still wasn't completely registering his presence. Will remained where he was trying to think of anything he knew about handling irrational people. The distinctive sounds of vomiting jolted him into action. Running down the hallway he skidded to a stop just outside the bathroom once again not believing what he was seeing.

Emma was kneeling in front of the toilet jamming her fingers into her throat. She was crying her tears mixing with the combination of water and partially digested food. Will was paralyzed, his body stubbornly disobeying his every command to move. She threw up two more times before he finally regained control of his legs. Running the few feet to Emma he dropped down beside her forcibly grabbing her arms and pulling her backwards. He was actually struggling to keep her away from the toilet.

"Emma, Emma,no." He choked barely finding the voice to form the words. She continued to fight against him.

"Emma you have to stop this. Emma please, listen to me." It wasn't doing any good. He wasn't getting through to her.

"Emma," he yelled loudly.

Emma stopped and stilled against him before screaming with such anguish Will knew he would never forget the sound. Falling back against him, she jammed her elbow into his chest with surprising force. He didn't move to stop her. This was better than the alternative. She began to kick her legs out wildly before bringing her fist down hard on her thigh. When she didn't stop Will latched his hand onto her wrist wrenching her arm backwards against his chest, not daring to let it go.

"Emma, stop it. You're hurting yourself."

"Maybe I deserve to be hurt." She screamed, "I sure as hell don't deserve anything better," she cried bitterly. Will didn't know how to respond to that so he simply continued to hold her, never letting go of her arm.

After about five minutes of struggling she finally collapsed against him her adrenaline rush wearing off. Will rocked her gently on the bathroom floor only moving to flush the toilet and wet a washcloth with warm water. He gently wiped it across her mouth surprised that she didn't even flinch. Next he picked her hand and did the same before resuming their earlier position. He wanted to move her to the bedroom but was afraid to even suggest it. At some point she had fallen asleep but Will remained awake afraid of what she might do if he did.

She stirred slightly in his arms before her eyes bolted open a look of panic written on her face. She pulled out of his grasp running to the sink blindly groping for her toothbrush knocking containers down as she did so. She whirled to face him,

"You must think I'm disgusting. You can go. I will understand. I know this is more than you want to deal with, more than you signed up for and I wouldn't blame you. I wouldn't want to be with someone as crazy, someone as fat as me. You deserve someone attractive Will, someone sane."

Will was at her side in a second hugging and placing a kiss on her forehead as he assured her that he was not going to go anywhere and that he never would. He told her they would work through this, that he would get her help if she needed it, and apologized for not having noticed earlier. Working up his nerve he spoke gently knowing that his question had the potential to send her back into a panic. _I have to know. I don't care how irrational this is. I have to know._

"Emma, do you know how much you weigh?" The question hung in the air and Will was sure he wasn't going to get an answer.

"I don't know. I haven't weighed myself in a few days," Emma ground out between clenched teeth.

"Emma, I know there is a scale in that cupboard." He paused before continuing, "Can we check sweetie," he forced his voice to sound as compassionate as he could. Registering her look of fear Will continued, "I promise you Emma I do not think you are fat. You're quite the opposite and I have noticed that for a while now I just kept telling myself it was due to being sick." _A different kind of sick._ Ducking his head so he could meet her eyes he murmured, "Emma, please." Taking her face in his hand and raising it upwards his heart broke as she looked everywhere but at him.

Will wasn't even sure Emma had heard him until she began to reach for the cupboard, pulling open the door and setting the scale on the floor in front of her.

"My clothes, it won't read right. It has to be accurate."

Will let out a breath running a hand through his hair. _This just keeps getting more complicated._

"Okay, um, okay. Emma your clothes won't make that much of a difference. It will be fine."

Emma finally looked at him choking out that yes they would make a difference and that she never weighed herself with them on because anything that could make the scale read higher was never an option.

Will didn't trust her to tell the truth if he left the room. Pulling her close he assured her that he wouldn't look at anything but the number on the scale. Emma laughed coldly saying that it really didn't matter because either way he was going to run.

Will didn't have a chance to avert his eyes. Emma tore off her shirt and once he saw her Will couldn't get himself to look away. He could count all of her ribs, her stomach was bulged from her recent food intake but he could tell that it would normally be flat. Her hip bones stuck out at sharp angles and the bra she had only created the illusion of breasts.

"Emma…"He trailed off holding back tears unable to continue as she removed her pants.

Her knees were bony and her thighs were almost the same size all the way up. Shakily she stepped on the scale closing her eyes in a small voice asking Will to look for her. Stepping forward he stood behind her looking down at the number he hoped wouldn't be that low.

94.

Will held his breath. _94 pounds. _

Her eyes seemed to be focused on nothing and the urge to comfort her was overwhelming. Reaching up he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the scale leading her silently down the hall to the bedroom piling the covers over her slight form before crawling in behind her holding her as tightly as he could burying his face in her neck as he felt her tremble with weakened sobs.

"It'll be okay Emma. We'll be okay. I've got you, sweetie," Will breathed against her skin as he felt his own tears begin to fall.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for how short the last chapter was. Having to read over 123 pages for a world lit class severely cuts into your free-time. It won a nobel prize I guess, and I know it's a classic but does it have to be so disjointed. It's next to impossible to keep the characters straight.

Anyone read The War of the End of The World?


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Another very dramatic chapter lies ahead it contains a fairly graphic description of death so read carefully. I apologize in advance for any family title mishaps i.e. using the word daughter when it should have been wife etc. I proof read this a lot but that does't really mean much for me. For my own personal reasons I didn't want to give any of Emma's family (or the hospital) names. I'm sorry if this causes any confusion

**Will's POV**

Will snapped his phone shut simultaneously shivering in the chilly early morning air. He had called them both in sick not even caring that Figgins had told him that it was unacceptable. Will didn't even bother to listen. Emma was in no shape to go to school today and he was not going to leave her alone.

He stood his shoulder supporting his weight against the doorframe not really wanting to go back inside and not really caring that he was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. The stars glimmered brightly in the darkened sky. Tiny pinpricks of light that only fueled his racing thoughts, Will had always been able to lose himself in the stars and quite often when he couldn't sleep he found himself outside just staring. Sometimes they calmed him but this morning that had no such effect.

His cell phone rang cutting into his trance. Skimming the display before answering he was surprised to see that it was Emma's father. Will had given the older man his number once when Emma had chaperoned with him on a field trip. It had been in the middle of winter and the forecast while favorable was forever unpredictable and he had wanted someone to call just in case something went wrong.

"Will, Will something has happened. Emma's mother was life-flighted to a hospital early yesterday afternoon. Apparently she had driven to see her General Practitioner. Her blood pressure was so low that he had no idea how she managed to drive their on her own. He refused to let her drive to the hospital, ordering an ambulance to come pick her up. I didn't even know she had gone to see him. She has always been secretive. It started out minor and she was due to be released twice which is why I hadn't called Emma but the doctors found blockages in both her lungs, one lobe in her left and one in her right. She has essentially been breathing on one lung and no one knew it. They have better equipment to deal with her condition at a more advanced hospital a couple hours away. That is why she was life-flighted, at first it appeared everything was going okay but they found a fungal infection in her blood and her compromised immune system from the steroids she has been taking for her Sarcoidosis has left her unable to fight it off. Right now she is only receiving oxygen but the doctors are worried she may get worse. I think Emma should come home, Will. I called you because I didn't want her to find out by herself, you know how Emma panics. I know it's early but please, please promise me you will go to her and tell her in person. Please do not tell her over the phone. Please."

Will stood in shock he hadn't even known Emma's mother had an auto-immune disorder let alone that it was this bad. _From the sound of things no one knew. _Clearing his head Will promised that he would go to Emma's apartment and tell her in person and that he personally would drive her to Virginia. Will decided to leave out the fact that he was standing on the porch of her apartment complex. Emma's father thanked him profusely before hanging up leaving Will completely unsure of what to do. It wasn't as if he didn't have a plan of action, he had to go tell her but he had no idea how go about it and what was worse was that he had no idea how she would react.

Will felt his legs give out as he fell to the ground his head coming to rest in his hands as he silently cursed life. With a heavy sigh he spoke to no one and everyone.

"Not now. Oh god, please, not now."

Will had silently slipped back into the apartment locating the suitcase he knew she kept in the closet by the door. If he packed for her it would be one less thing she had to worry about, one less thing that could have the potential to drive her into a panic. Grabbing whatever clothes he could find ranging from outfits he had seen her wear at school to everyday sweatpants. He stuffed them inside at that moment not wanting to take the time to fold them neatly inwardly hoping that Emma wouldn't have the wherewithal to care.

He had scooped the snow around Emma's car. Hers would definitely ensure that they got there safely his car as it was had often left him hoping he could just make it to the school and back. Still dressed in his t-shirt and jeans he had allowed the cold to numb him physically while the reality of the situation at hand numbed him mentally. Taking his anger out with every swipe of the shovel permitted him to unearth her car in record time. The snowplows had passed through at some point and to his amazement the roads looked drivable. _Small fortunes. _

Making his way to the bedroom he fervently wished he was the bearer of any news other than that which had turned his world upside down and was certain to do the same to hers.

Shaking her shoulder gently he forced a small smile as Emma groggily opened her eyes.

"Will, what are you doing, it's three in the morning."

Will felt his smile falter as he looked down at her. Dropping to his knees he took her hands in his never breaking eye contact.

"Emma, your dad called me just a few minutes ago. Your mom was life-flighted to the hospital yesterday. He didn't call you because at first it didn't look that serious but the doctors have found a fungal infection in her blood and she has been unable to fight it off as of yet. He wanted me to tell you."

He watched as Emma sat up the look on her face stoic as she began to rattle off things that had to be done. He stopped her mid-sentence.

"Emma I already packed your suitcase, it's in the car. I scooped the car out and the snowplows have gone through. The roads look drivable. I'm not going to let you go alone, sweetie. We need to go to Virginia and I'm driving." Emma moved to protest but will cut her off. "I'm driving," he repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument.

After he had convinced Emma that the house did not have to meticulously cleaned, the plants didn't need to be watered and the bed did not have to be made they were finally on the road. Will wondered if he should turn on the radio, anything to break the silence. Emma hadn't spoken since they had gotten into the car. Stealing glances when the road didn't look to treacherous he could tell that her eyes were not really registering their surroundings. He wished more than anything that he could pull her into a hug. He hadn't been able to get her to eat breakfast even when he had offered oatmeal. That really didn't surprise him and he had already made a mental note to pick some up at the first store they came across. She wasn't going to eat anything else and as much as he longed to convince her otherwise he knew it wasn't even worth the effort.

About four hours into the drive Emma had suddenly become chatty. Asking him questions about Glee, everything from the gossip he had overhead from the members to what songs he was planning for sectionals. Will answered them all silently wondering what had caused this shift. Soon she had turned on the radio singing along with country songs by artists Will had never heard of. She had a smile on her face and for all intents and purposes seemed like there was absolutely nothing wrong, like they weren't driving to her home state because her mother might….Will stopped himself. There was no way he was going to say those words even if no one else would hear them.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma had been relieved when she began to feel normal, giddy even. It was far better than being on auto-pilot. Nothing was going to happen. Bad things had cropped up numerous times in her life and they had always managed to work themselves out. Nothing had every truly gone wrong in her life and she knew that this would be no different. They were simply going to visit her mother, stay a few days and leave when she got better. She knew it. For the rest of the drive she never once slipped back into the trance she had been in.

Emma moved down the halls of the hospital the map the man at the front desk had given nearly unreadable from being squeezed so tightly. Her father had given her directions but being beyond directionally challenged she had cut him off half-way through. Why she had thought she could read a map was beyond her. This place was a never-ending maze. The blue signs with white lettering pointing which way to go to get to the ICU were not at all helpful. The building was connected to all of the other buildings on campus, each one having its own purpose. What was more confusing was that the elevators (all labeled A-D) might start on one floor of one building and open on the floor of another.

At some point Will had taken the initiative and all though he sometimes seemed about as adept at reading the map as she he was finding more signs that said Intensive Care Unit. _ICU, as if that makes it sound any less intense. _Finally they found a sign that pointed directly to an elevator that was miraculously labeled Intensive Care Unit Main Entrance. Emma breathed a sigh of relief it did not escape her attention that at the bottom of the sign in italicized font were the words _Eating Disorder Unit_. She almost laughed at the absurdity.

As soon as the doors opened her eyes rested upon a lobby that was obviously designed to provide comfort. To Emma the warm colors and padded chairs seemed a mockery of sorts. A feeble attempt to provide comfort to a place where people usually only said good-bye. _There's no comfort here. _

Will placed a hand lightly on her lower back as she stepped onto the purple, green and tan patterned carpet. In seconds her dad, brother and grandma were at her side pulling her into a hug that she was sure if it had lasted any longer would have left her fighting for air. She watched as her family introduced themselves, Will politely shaking everyone's hand before leading her over to a chair and taking a seat next to her keeping her hand wrapped in his. _Maybe there is some comfort here. _

Her brother scribbled down her mother's room number informing her that she would have to check in with the lady at the front desk so she could be buzzed through. Will followed closely at her heels after she had said yes when he offered to accompany her. Rounding the corner Emma could hear her mom's distinctive hacking from inside a glass-encased room. The curtain was pulled so Emma could not see in. She stood outside anxiously not quite sure if she should enter or not. There was a nurse inside. Even though she was standing there in a hospital Emma could not stop the wave of annoyance at the sound her mom was producing. She had lived her whole life to the tune of that sound, often getting woken up in the early morning hours of the morning. At the time it had been one more reason Emma had found to dislike her mother a decision that she desperately regretted now.

The nurse turned around for the first time noticing Emma standing outside and motioning for her to come in. Will's hand once again found her lower back faintly she wondered if she ever would have worked up the guts to walk in if his hand hadn't been there gently urging her forward.

Emma nearly froze at the sight of her mother lying in the hospital bed an oxygen tube running under her nose as she lay propped up still coughing. Emma hadn't been expecting to have that reaction after all it wasn't as if her mom was laying there on a ventilator. She didn't even know what to say, everything seemed stupid and frivolous as if she were trying to make light of the matter but then again the alternative subject seemed an even worse choice.

Will stood behind her as Emma sat in a chair the nurse had brought in for her. Finally finding a voice she began to talk of Glee reciting some of the things she had learned from Will on the drive over. In her mind thoughts of how absolutely pointless this topic was wouldn't leave her alone but she pushed on because really what else was there to say? Will talked for a while, recounting his job as a Spanish teacher and briefly mentioning Glee. Almost as an after thought he added how amazing he thought Emma was, how special she was to him.

Throughout everything Emma's mothered listened quietly it was difficult for her to talk with her shortage of breath. Emma watched as her mother sent texts on her phone and idly she wondered who she was talking too, not that it was any of her business. Emma fumbled in her purse for the card she had picked out when Will had stopped to buy oatmeal. It was simple a yellow Labrador Retriever with a goofy expression graced the front. During the drive Emma had colored the dog black with a pen to resemble the family black lab her mother loved so much. On the inside she hadn't written much just "Love you mom, Emma and Will," underneath the bold print that proclaimed "Just another Lab report to brighten your day. Get better soon." Her mom had laughed at the card saying that it was the best one she had received yet. Emma suddenly felt even worse for not writing more on the inside. After a while they were running out of topics and her mom suggested they go sit in the lobby saying that there would be doctors coming soon to run tests and the size of the room would only ensure that her and Will would be in the way. Emma took no offense to the comment glad to get out because frankly she didn't know what the hell to say anymore.

There was a large coffee maker surrounded by a grouping of chairs arranged so that people could watch the TV. It had been the first thing Will had gone to, grabbing a Styrofoam cup and filling it has full as he could before taking a sip and hissing at the temperature. Looking closer Emma noticed that it also had a spout for plain tea. She took more care than Will had when taking her first sip. Staring at the coffee pot and watching her family (and Will) getting up again and again to refill their cups she thought about how the coffee might represent some hint of normalcy to them. They had all drank more than Emma had ever seen them do in the past. No one read any of the books, Will had casually walked over and browsed the shelf, commenting about the ten-year old magazines and laughing a bit before drawing everyone's attention to a couple romance novels. _Who would read a romance novel in the ICU? Who would even donate a romance novel?_

Emma had no prior experience with someone being in the hospital so after a few hours and a few more awkward visits with her mother she had asked Will when they were leaving. Will looked surprised at her question before softly telling her that they were going to stay at the hospital for a few days in a suite specifically for people with family members on the Intensive Care Unit. When Emma asked who had gotten the room Will informed her that her dad had reserved it earlier that morning for just the two of them. Emma wasn't sure what to think of this new development. _Why are we staying at the hospital? Everything is fine, she's talking and laughing at tacky jokes just like her usual self, so why aren't we going back home? What about school? _When Emma had voiced her concern about work Will had told her that he had already called principal Figgins and in an uncharacteristic move he had given them both as much time off as they needed.

Monday and Tuesday passed with no changes in her mom's condition and again Emma found herself wondering why her and Will hadn't left yet. For some reason Will didn't want to go just yet, saying that when his dad had been in the hospital he and his mom had all but camped out in the lobby. Emma simply thought that was crazy.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will jumped when he heard a shrill ring. He heart clenched as he blindly reached to answer the phone on the bedside table. He had purposefully taken that side of the bed just in case this happened. He wanted to be the one to take the call.

Early that morning Emma's mom had been placed on a ventilator and while the nurse assured him that she was not completely dependent upon it Will knew that the odds had just taken a turn for the worse. Waking Emma and for the second time informing her of bad news he was dumbfounded when she simply nodded and asked when they could go see her. Her face occupied by the same expression she had worn the other morning. Emma's voice was devoid of any emotion as she moved to get dressed with a calmness behind every action that for all intents and purposes made it appear as if it was just another morning and she was simply getting ready for work. Will didn't like what he was seeing. She was distancing herself from the situation, a coping mechanism so she wouldn't really have to deal with what was happening. It was working so well that she didn't appear phased at all as they wound their way back to the ICU.

Again Will found himself following behind Emma as they traversed the now memorized path to her mother's room. A swarm of people in white coats stood outside the door and Will gulped. That was never good. Looking over at Emma as they came to a stop behind the doctors her face was just as impassive as it had been all morning.

The doctors moved aside allowing them to enter. Will had flash backs to his own father's hospital stay when he took in all of the machines Emma's mother was hooked up to. He didn't know what any of them were but he could pick out the one that showed her pulse. It wasn't that high, but it wasn't that low either.

Emma simply stood there staring giving no indication as to what she was thinking. Her grandmother was in the room calmly smoothing out her mother's hair and telling her that her mom was here now and that Emma was on the other side of the bed. Will almost cried at the sight of what was clearly an action reminiscent of childhood. Turning to Emma her grandmother informed her that she could touch her mom, that she had been told by doctors in the past that the person may be able to feel touch.

Will watched as Emma slowly approached the bed and even more slowly placed her hand on a section of her mom's arm careful not to disturb the multitude of tubes. She held her hand in one place clearly uneasy about the action. Emma's mom slowly turned her head toward her daughter her eyes showing that she was not completely lucid and briefly Will wondered if there weren't tears mixed in as well. Will knew that Emma's family was not touchy-feely which he thought of as the explanation behind her almost obsessive need to be held and comforted. His own family had been a firm believer in hugs and to him it was inconceivable of a family behaving any other way. Will maintained that sometimes the best thing you could say to a person was a hug.

Emma opened her mouth only to close it again. On the second try she started talking again about school and Glee the family dog. Will could tell she was nervous and he could hear the awkwardness in her voice when she softly whispered that she loved her. Emma didn't want to stay in the room too much after that turning and bumping directly into Will. He thought about trying to convince her to stay longer but decided against it allowing her to lead him back towards the double doors that led into the lobby.

Will sat next to Emma at the small wooden table placed in front of the coffee maker. He had stopped counting how many cups of coffee had had drank hours ago. Emma had started talking and she was acting far too normal considering the circumstances. She was making jokes, laughing at them and to Will it seemed as though she were in complete denial.

Will listened as Emma's brother talked in a not so hushed tone to his wife informing her of the events because she had been able to come down due a recent surgery and the threat of infection.

"It's not looking good. Basically it will be a miracle if she survives."

That did it. The tears began to fall as Emma lowered her head letting her hair cover her face in embarrassment at her outburst. Will's heart broke for the thousandth time that day as he pulled her into a hug shooting a glare at her brother's and his blatant insensitivity before gently urging her to stand and walking to the other end of the lobby telling her that it would be okay even though he didn't believe it really would.

Early Thursday morning Will intercepted another call the same nurse informing him that Emma's mothers' pulse rate was in the 200's. Will hadn't even known that was possible. Quietly he asked if they should come over but the nurse had said they were working on it and he and Emma should go get breakfast. Emma hadn't eaten since Tuesday, it wasn't that he hadn't noticed but he hadn't had the bravado to bring up the issue. She needed to eat today though.

Waiting a couple hours before waking her up he tried to convince her to go with him to the cafeteria. She of course had flat-out declined his offer so as it was he found his legs carrying through the halls accompanied only by his own thoughts. He ordered a small breakfast of eggs and hash browns and coffee to go. How he managed to make his way back to the room without spilling the coffee was a complete mystery. After fumbling momentarily with the key he opened the door to find Emma on the bed silently poking her spoon into her bowl of oatmeal. It was Clear she had yet to take a bite. Will sighed.

"Emma, honey, you need to eat. It's just oatmeal, the same kind you have at home. It's safe." He hated adding those two last words but he was hoping they would be the little shove she needed to bring the spoon to her mouth. Will was beyond relieved when she took her first tentative bite.

Will silently finished off his breakfast thinking that it wasn't too bad for hospital food. Now he sat on the edge of the bed watching as Emma took her last bite going over again and again how he planned to tell her of the phone call he had received earlier that morning.

Will cleared this throat, "I got a phone call this morning from your mom's nurse. Her heart rate is dangerously high but she assured me that we didn't have to go over right away."

Emma never met his eyes and maybe that was a good thing he mused. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to see the sadness that he knew they conveyed.

An impassionate, "Okay," was the only clue he had that she had actually registered his words.

Getting up he crossed the floor enveloping Emma in a hug taking a step back when she violently tore herself out of his embrace. Her face hadn't changed and Will not knowing what else to do simply stared at his shoes as he suggested they head to her mother's room.

This time Will walked in front of Emma down the familiar hall stopping at the door so she could catch up. Peering through where the curtain was pulled away slightly he could tell that her mother was now completely supported by the ventilator. Will closed his eyes as he told himself over and over that punching his hand into the wall would not do anyone any good.

He entered the room before her and watched as Emma stated a simple, "Hi, mom." She had almost worked past her resistance to touching her mother placing her hand on her mom's tracing a pattern with her thumb. It was clear she didn't' know what else to say and Will would have bet anything that she was silently going over facts from a Death and Dying psychology class she had taken as an undergrad. She had wrote her own obituary for that class, toured a funeral home, planned her own funeral and written a living will. Will ran across the papers one day while looking for a pair of shoes in Emma's closet. He dropped his head slightly when he realized that one day Emma would have to move her mothers name.

For the rest of the day Will followed Emma like a puppy accompanying her back and forth again and again and again. It was late evening and before they went back to their room Will suggested that Emma go see her mom one last time not wanting to admit his reasoning behind his words. Back at her mom's bedside he heard Emma whisper a tiny "I'm sorry, mom," he heard her voice falter as she added, "I'm so sorry."

* * *

Will reached over to turn off the lamp before sliding under the covers with Emma leaving the room illuminated by the ridiculous light above the bed that left everything washed in a soft blue. Closing his eyes and snuggling up behind Emma he wrapped an arm around her waist knowing she would appreciate the protective gesture.

He was half asleep when he felt Emma turn to face him brushing her hand across his cheek before crashing her lips against his. Will stilled partially because he was trying to shake the sleep from his mind and partially due to sheer confusion at Emma's actions. Pulling away he held Emma back and looked into her eyes. There were filled with emotion. They were filled with pain. Will opened his mouth to speak but Emma cut him off.

"Please, Will. I want to feel loved. Please."

The pure desperation in her tone made up Will's mind for him and he resumed her earlier kiss matching her intensity. Their tongues warred with each other and Will suddenly regretted having worn boxers when he felt himself growing hard. He was sure he had never hated himself more than he did at that moment. Once again pulling away from Emma's lips he began to scoot across the bed only to be stopped by Emma's hand on his waist.

"Don't, I need this. I need to know someone wants me."

Will against his every inclination brought his mouth back to hers as he began to run his hands under her shirt grimacing slightly when his fingers found ribs. To his shock Emma sat up and removed her blouse and pants leaving herself only in a white bra and panties. Now he really didn't know what to do. Emma began removing his shirt before Will brought up a hand to stop her.

"Sweetie, you don't know what you're doing. You're not thinking clearly right now. I won't do something you will only regret."

Emma never responded only continuing to remove his shirt. Will raised himself slightly still wondering what the hell he was doing.

"I need to feel wanted." Emma repeated her earlier words trying to pull him closer to her. Will resisted at first before giving in. He couldn't deny her what she wanted at least not tonight.

He carefully inched his way towards her whispering that he loved her before allowing his entire body to meld against hers. Still uncertain Will brought his mouth again to her ear murmuring softly.

"Feel that sweetie? That means you are wanted. That means I want you but more importantly know that it means I love you."

Her arms snaked around his waist pulling him even closer into her and Will groaned before he could stop himself. Her hands were soon all over his chest, touching everywhere they could reach, her fingers playing with the curls she found there. Will mimicked her actions letting his own hands roam freely on her exposed skin. When he felt her hands drop lower to rest on the hem of his boxers he stopped moving a hand down to catch hers.

"Not tonight, Em. Not here."

They explored each others' bodies for what seemed like hours the whole time Will never really losing himself because he was still slightly confused. When he felt Emma start to cry he wasn't sure if he was relieved that she was showing some emotion or worried that she had finally realized what she was doing. She turned in his arms, pressing into him and he wrapped himself possessively around her hitching one leg up between hers and moving his foot so that he held that in his grasp as well. He didn't allow himself to sleep until he felt her breathing even out.

* * *

It was seven in the morning on Friday and Will found himself guzzling coffee as though his life depended on it once again perched in an uncomfortable chair. Things were not looking good at all. A couple doctors had come in while Emma and he were back there. Quietly they had pulled Emma aside explaining that her mom's liver and kidneys had suffered extensive damage from the infection in her blood. They said they were working on trying to figure out how to stop it before it spread but so far they had nothing. It wasn't long after that that they cornered Will motioning for him to step out of the room. Wondering what it was they didn't want Emma to hear Will paled as the words "complete liver failure," "kidney failure," "dialysis" and "not working," registered somewhere in his mind. Will wanted to yell at them for being so damn inconsiderate by giving Emma the watered down version effectively leaving him with the task of telling her the not watered down one.

Emma was back to her automaton self today and as he told her what the doctors had told him she showed no indication of even comprehending his words.

They were sitting in the waiting room again as a doctor started towards them. Everyone jumped up at the same time staring with a mixture of hope and fear, no one wanting to voice the thoughts running through their mind. The man led them into a consult room quietly explaining that they had tried everything, that her body could not fight off the infection and that it was starting to affect her heart and even if they could do something that brain damage was more than just a possibility.

Emma's father had spoken then asking how it was that his daughter would have brain damage. Will turned as Emma took a breath before addressing the doctor. Her monotone voice filled the room as she asked how long it had taken them to get her mom on life support after she had crashed. Upon receiving the answer of five minutes Emma turned back to her father calmly explaining that neurons could only survive three minutes without oxygen and even by the one minute mark they would have suffered extensive damage. Will blinked. She's so damn calm, so illogically rational. _How can she even remember that right now?_

With a surprisingly compassionate expression the doctor focused his gaze on Emma's father asking if it was alright to take his wife off the ventilator without actually saying the words. Will's eyes started to water as Emma's dad looked at her with indescribable desperation, his eyes pleading with her telling her silently that he absolutely could not make the decision to end his wife of 30 years' life.

"Take her off. There's nothing you can do. Even if there was it wouldn't be a life. Take her off." Her confident tone daring anyone to second guess her decision.

No one spoke.

Will held back tears once again ashamed at how emotional he was when Emma hadn't once let on to what she was feeling as she had answered the question no one else could bring themselves to respond to. This was the first time he had ever heard Emma make a definite decision about anything. The woman who could barely decide what movie to rent had just decided without even so much as a tremble in her voice to take her mom off life support.

* * *

They were eating as the paralytic wore off.

Emma's grandmother had wanted to stay but the rest of them opted out the doctor having told them it would take about 45 minutes and that they should go get some food. Emma had rather impulsively purchased a bag of gummy worms a slightly wild look on her face as she crammed two or three into her mouth at a time. Will knew without a doubt that she was screaming at herself for her actions. No one else seemed to notice as they made small talk over there cheeseburgers and fries.

Emma was the only one who had wanted to be in the room when the ventilator was removed. Her grandma didn't want to see the tube taken out but rather chose to wait outside in the hall only entering after the nurse had given her the okay.

Will listened as the nurse told Emma that she could go to her mom's side. With no trace of her earlier nervousness Emma gently took hold of her mom's left hand tracing circles with her thumb. Will moved up beside her tears streaming down his face as he noticed her mom struggling to breathe after the ventilator was unable to do it for her.

Emma was muttering things under her breath but he couldn't hear any of them. She didn't even flinch when her mom's head lifted off the bed one long gasp as her lungs tried to take in air. Will felt pangs of sympathy for Emma's grandmother and cursed everything and nothing. She had just brought her hand down to smooth her daughter's hair as her head had shot up. When her head fell back to the pillow her face was turned towards Emma. Again her mother's head rose up as she took one final gasp before her lips began to turn white. For a moment her eyes seemed to be resting on Emma. Will wanted to throw up when he realized they were only starting to roll back. Acting on impulse Will wrapped his arm around Emma wanting to comfort her as much as himself his hand falling limp to his side when for the second time Emma jerked herself away. Emma just stood there holding her mom's hand never once crying as her mother's head lolled to the side her mouth partially open. Will felt like the most useless thing in the world. This was one thing that no matter how hard he tried he could not protect her from and that killed him.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma listened calmly to the gurgling sound produced as the tube was removed from her mothers' mouth and vaguely she wondered how something that long could fit down someone's throat.

Approaching her mother's side she took her hand in her own completely unaware of anything except the clammy feeling beneath her fingertips.

She wasn't expecting it when her mom's head rose off the bed with a violent gasp erupting from her throat. To her it looked almost as if her mom had just had particularly bad coughing fit and was working to catch her breath. She didn't flinch although she did think about how traumatized her grandmother must have been when her mom had gasped right as her hand came down to caress her forehead.

When her mother gulped for air again she felt Will's arm move to rest on her shoulder. She yanked her body away. She didn't want to be comforted right now.

Quietly Emma started reciting facts to herself, "This is simply her body's reaction to a lack of oxygen. Her body is doing what it is supposed to do. This isn't mom. The only thing that was keeping her functioning was the ventilator, her medulla must not be dead yet because she is trying to breathe. She's facing me. Is she looking at me? No. Her eyes are rolling back, the muscles are giving out. Her lips are turning white simply a byproduct of the blood draining from her face because her heart is stopping."

Momentarily her monologue changed, "I'm sorry mom. I promise I will be successful. I promise I will not fail at life. I love you mom," by the time Emma told her mother that she would be okay her face had turned to the side her eyes lifeless as her mouth hung open.

Emma really didn't have any coherent thoughts as she left the room, at least not any coherent thoughts regarding what she had just witnessed. She was surprisingly lucid otherwise working her way down the hall and forcing the doors open as if she had not just watched her mother die.

Her father and brother were in the waiting the pain in their eyes only intensifying as Emma moved towards them. No one knew what to do they all just sat down in the chairs that had become a constant in their lives. No one said anything and Emma found herself crawling into Will's lap, letting him wrap his arms around her as he buried his face in her neck. She still didn't cry.

After a few minutes Emma realized that no one had grabbed the white hospital bag from the shelf in her mom's room. No one wanted to go so once again Emma and Will checked in with the front desk on their way out.

Emma entered the room almost unaware of her mother's body lying on the bed not two feet away. It was when she turned around with the bag in hand that she couldn't deny what she was face to face with. Her mother was laying there her face white with dead eyes. It was her mouth hanging open that really got to Emma that was what she absolutely couldn't write off. Everything else about the nightmare in front of her indicated that perhaps her mom was just in a deep sleep. Everything except _that_.

Moving towards the bed Emma reached out with her left hand lightly touching her mom's shoulder. She was stiff. _Rigor Mortis_, her mind supplied. Before removing her hand Emma voiced a simple "Goodbye Mom," before walking out of the room that contained her mother's body.

As she worked her way down the hall she watched the doctors and desperately she hoped she appeared more than just a woman in rumpled clothes with messy hair walking towards the door to the lobby. She searched thir faces for any signs of sympathy not that she would be able to tell if any of them were the ones who had worked on her mom. There had been too many for her to have been able to keep track. Emma continued her descent thinking that maybe she had detected sympathy in a couple sets of eyes and hoping for reasons she couldn't identify that she had. Her grip on the plastic handles of the bag only tightened as if it were the one thing that for the sake of everything was keeping her quietly sectioned off from reality.

* * *

A/N:Most of the events surround Emma's actions during this time mirror what I went through when my mom died this last October. I kept the details as accurate as possible all the way down to the sign that read _Eating Disorder Unit_. Obviously I had different members of my family present the one HUGE difference being, I didn't have a Will.

It was oddly theraputic writing this so I hope it wasn't too emotional for anyone.

Thank you very much for the reviews my loyal readers, they never fail to bring a smile to my face.

Now to read the 183 pages for World Lit that I put off to write this. I kept telling myself I was going to take a break and start on that...yep, that went about how I thought it would (Even I tried to deny that I would put if off all day.)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Another intense chapter but I promise there is fluff because we all need Wemma fluff:)

There is a rather graphic mention of self-injury in this chapter. Before anyone jumps down my throat claiming that Emma would never do such a thing due to her mysophobia let me point out that the eating disorder has taken the place of her fear of germs. Her mysophobia is still there it's just been pushed back by the eating disorder. The self-injury is only going to be a one time thing but she will think about it when her safety nets are taken away. I haven't gone out of my way to write anything about it recently but her OCD is still present. Enjoy!

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will blinked trying get his eyes to focus as he pulled into the Motel 6 parking lot. He had booked the hotel in advance knowing that he would never be able to drive all the way back with everything that had happened. He was operating on reserves as it was and besides, he was worried about Emma. He tried to tell himself that she was acting normal but the almost manic expression in her eyes coupled with the way her hands flew about as she talked excitedly about everything from her favorite day of the week to Will's hair left him less than convinced.

He truly didn't know what to do with her and he wasn't sure which one out of the two versions of Emma he had witnessed recently was worse. Either way she was scaring him.

Unloading the brand new bedding from the trunk he went to retrieve the key to their room. The man behind the counter had been extremely kind shouting out a jovial "Have a good night" as they had existed the double door. Will glanced at Emma with a cautious expression waiting for her to react but she had merely told him the same in a sickeningly cheerful voice.

It was while he was stripping the bed and covering the mattress with a soft blue fitted sheet that his stomach protested his sparse lunch of a chocolate chip granola bar. He needed to eat and the only thing they had was oatmeal. Ever since Will was a kid he had always developed atrocious headaches if he went too long without eating and he knew from past experience that he needed more than oatmeal. Considering his options he remembered having seen a McDonald's across the street from the hotel no doubt placed there for just such occasions.

Emma was perched on the freshly made bed flipping through static-filled channels letting out an excited squeal when she found Funny Girl. Not completely trusting her current mental state Will asked if she wanted to go along fully expecting her to shoot him down. When she had said that she would love to he was once again left not knowing what to say.

With Emma at his side obviously nervous about jaywalking they crossed the street narrowly avoiding a couple cars and earning a rude honk from a blue sedan.

"That was exhilarating Will, let's do it again!" Emma screamed into his ear as she latched on to his arm trying to pull him backwards.

He couldn't help but laugh at the joy breaking a simple rule brought her. His strength against hers however didn't leave her a fighting chance and soon they were headed forward again the glow of the golden arches illuminating the parking lot almost as if it was a spotlight just for them.

It was unbearably cheesy that he found the lighting so ridiculously romantic.

Stopping a few feet from the door without warning he turned and kissed Emma allowing it to last a few seconds before backing away gesturing grandly for her to walk through.

"M'Lady,"

Will noticed that everyone was looking at them as they entered and that they were all wearing that sappy, wistful expression that no one was immune to when they laid eyes on a couple in love.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Everyone was staring at her.

Emma ducked her head trying to hide her embarrassment as she crossed the threshold into the restaurant. _At least he looks nervous too._

The whole drive Emma had been in a wonderful state of euphoria that she had never wanted to end and so far her wish had been granted. She wanted to remain this way forever it was by far easier than being the neurotic, obsessive, control-freak that had become her identity for over 30 years.

She watched Will with a smile on her face as his eyes kept flickering back and forth from the cheeseburger section of the menu to the McFlurry portion. She knew before he did that he was going to order both.

* * *

_What the hell are you doing? You are standing in a restaurant, not just any restaurant a fast food joint. The one place you promised yourself long ago you would never set foot in again. Do you smell that, the rancid order of fat that comprises everything in this place? Can you feel it gathering on your body? Imagine what it is going to do to you. Imagine your thighs brushing together as you walk, running your hand over your shoulder and not being able to feel bone. _

_Not being able to see your ribs. _

_You have to get out of here right now. _Emma glanced at Will, he was too immersed in talking with the cashier to notice what was going on. _Forget about him, he doesn't love you. Not really and besides even if he did he won't after tonight. Not if you eat here. Get. Out. Now._

Emma bolted.

She felt her hands connect harshly with the handle on the door before she was finally able to wrench it open slipping off her high heels she began to sprint across the parking lot not caring that she had left Will, not caring what people thought. Her one and only concern was getting as far away from that place as she could. The voice congratulated her becoming her own personal cheerleader as her legs carried her faster than she had thought possible.

Distantly she heard Will calling her name. _Ignore him. He's nothing but a road block standing in your path. He's always trying to make you eat, to make you fat. Ignore him._

Emma didn't realize she was crossing the road until a semi roared past missing her by inches. The shock of having been so close to what would have probably been certain death should have shut the voice up but it only seemed to fuel it. _Keep going. Move. _She stood momentarily frozen as cars zoomed by on either side of her irate drivers yelling obscenities while they laid on their horns.

_Move._

She didn't notice when she tripped on the curb on the other side of the street. A sharp stinging sensation shot through her knees and looking down she could see shards of glass protruding from her skin as small gobs of blood began to form. Emma should have been repulsed but instead she stared with morbid fascination as the liquid that she had watched drain from her mother's face not hours before trickled down her leg. Slowly she began picking at it, her hands garnering small cuts from the action. Adrenaline was keeping her body firmly locked in flight mode and the pain began to melt away in its wake leaving her delightfully numb. _I like this Emma thought. I can handle this. This is even more manageable than the euphoria. I never knew pain could make you feel this way. _

She wasn't really aware of Will dropping to his knees in front of her but she was aware of his voice and again it was his voice that finally broke through. Tears began to stream down her face partially because she didn't know who this woman was but mostly because the numbness had started to wear off. Between strangled gulps for air she vowed to get it back. _Anything is better than being an emotional wreck._

_

* * *

_**Will's POV **

_Reeses Mcflurry or cheeseburger and fries?_

_Want it. Need it. Want it. Need it._

_I definitely want to need them both. Problem solved._

In the middle of placing his order he heard someone collide with the door. _Who could be in that much of a hurry to get into a McDonald's?_

He turned just in time to see Emma tear her shoes off as she broke into a full out run into the night. _What the hell?_

He was out the door in seconds his legs moving in long strides all those years of track finally paying off. _What is she doing? She seemed fine, well not fine but stable at least. _

As he watched in horror Emma didn't stop as she approached the street blindly beginning to cross obviously not noticing or caring about the cars around her. A semi passed inches from her body and her name erupted from his throat in a mixture of pure terror and complete helplessness. He was almost to the road when Emma tore off again and Will sent a silent prayer for the break in traffic. Feeling the asphalt under his feet it dimly registered with him that he was in the street now. His eyes were focused only on Emma and he called her name again as her foot caught on the curb hurtling her to the ground.

He was stuck in the middle of the road. He couldn't get to her. A car that rivaled Will's skidded to a stop and a chubby man called him names he had not been the recipient of since high school. Will didn't care it was the break he needed to get across.

Running to her side he roughly dropped to his knees staring in disbelief as Emma tore at the shards of glass embedded in her knees tearing her hands as she did so.

For the second time he found himself yelling her name.

In seconds she was crying her face twisting into the kind of cry that there was absolutely nothing glamorous about. Moving to take her in his arms he noticed the gaggle of onlookers that had gathered. It looked to him like all they needed was some popcorn and soda and they would be set.

"Don't you have any respect? You don't know anything about her. She watched her mother die tonight," he barked. Not really caring that some of the bystanders had adopted sympathetic stares he angrily added, "Fuck off." The stragglers who had dared to remain backed away slowly nearly bumping into each other as they moved to get away from the situation.

It had taken him fifteen minutes to carry Emma a five-minute distance. She had struggled violently the entire time screaming something about her mom and blood and being numb. By the time he had gotten her into their room and safely locked the door he had absolutely no clue how to handle her.

Running his hands through his hair in sheer desperation he waited not so patiently for her to calm down enough that felt he could approach her. Taking her hand gently he led her to the bathroom placing her on the toilet as he began to clean her wounds. She absolutely would not stop crying and kept trying to draw her knees up to her chest making it nearly impossible for Will to pick out the remaining slivers of glass. He grabbed her shoulders roughly shaking her.

"Emma. Stop it," he growled.

_I just shook her._

Pushing the wave of self-hatred down he managed to clean her up gingerly wiping away the dried blood. Tears were still sliding silently down her face.

He very reluctantly agreed when she had asked if she could take a shower.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Right now nothing mattered more to Emma than achieving the numbness she had experienced on the curb. It was pain that had brought it on before so logically pain would be the thing to bring it back. Rummaging through her night bag her clothes landed everywhere. She stared transfixed by the plastic case she held in her hand her face a mixture of fear and desperate hopefulness.

Stepping under the warm spray Emma worked to pop one small blade free. It took seconds but it had felt more like hours. The way it glinted in the soft lighting of the bathroom was almost hypnotic. A part of her screamed at her to stop, to think about what she was doing and put the blade down but a much larger part, the in control part calmly and rationally told her to keep going that the feeling of being numb was worth it. When given the choice Emma decided that a calm voice was much more reassuring than a screaming one.

Slowly she laid the blade against her thigh experimentally pressing down and hissing sharply at the stinging pain the movement brought. _Keep going. You have to work through this to get to what you want. No pain no gain, right? _

Placing the tiny piece of middle back in its previous location she drew a small horizontal line silently pleased that she had been able to make it so straight. _Not enough. Deeper. Just like your weight is not low enough that is not deep enough. _

Emma couldn't bring herself to place the slightly bloody object back in the same spot so she moved it a few inches to the left this time applying more pressure and watching in awe as her skin ever so slightly split open. _Good, but it could be better._

A few inches to the left of that cut she altered her technique pressing the tip of the blade into her thigh then roughly pulling her hand back. That was much more effective. The gash at least looked somewhat deep. Firming her resolve she repeated the action forcing her hand to slice across the same space of skin. Again and again and again she swiped the weapon across her leg until she couldn't feel the pain anymore even though she could feel the blade tearing through layers of skin. _That's it. That's good. Just a little bit more._

One last pass split the sides of the cut even wider, almost a half inch.

Finally she was numb.

Glancing down at her leg Emma foggily wondered why she wasn't hyperventilating at the sight that greeted her. Streams of blood were trailing down her body, oozing freely from the gash on her left thigh. The water was creating little channels for the blood to flow along and she watched in fascination as it mingled with the liquid turning it into a bright red. She was standing in over two inches of crimson. _The drain must not be working properly._

Emma sighed and sagged back against the wall allowing the blessed feeling of not caring about anything to overcome her.

Just as she hadn't heard Will softly knocking and asking if she was alright. She didn't hear the door open.

* * *

**Will's POV **

Will sat on the edge of the bed mindlessly flipping through the channels attempting to figure out what had caused everything to go so irrevocably wrong. He pressed a button on his phone causing the display to light as he read the time. _An hour, she's been in there for an hour. _

Telling himself he was being over-protective and irrational he headed towards the door and after a moment's hesitation softly knocked with the back of his hand.

"Emma, you've been in there for an hour. Everything okay?"

No response.

Now he was at war with himself. Should he take a chance and open the door to see if she really was alright or should he return to the bed because nothing sounded worse than the humiliation he would feel if she was just taking a long shower. _If she had been acting rationally the whole night it would make perfect sense for me to not disturb her but she hasn't been acting rationally so maybe I should go in. I'm going in._

He smelled the blood before his eyes registered it the steam having left it almost tangible in the air.

It was everywhere, all over the shower curtain, mixed into the water and even though the curtain obscured his view of Emma he knew it was coming from her. With two long strides he was beside the bathtub not even bothering to alert her to his presence before ripping the curtain back.

"Emma…" he whispered as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. His next words were more for himself than her.

"Okay, I'm go-I'm going to get you out okay? You're going to be fine."

Emma was propped against the wall of the shower a "gone for the day" glossiness in her eyes. Searching frantically for the source of the miniature flood of red his eyes landed on a series of cuts on her left thigh one of them deep enough that it probably needed stitches. Gripping the curtain tightly he whirled around dropping his head as he gagged. He had always had a weak stomach.

All but leaping over the edge of the tub he gasped as frigid water cascaded down his shirt his socks turning red to match the liquid nightmare he was standing in. Emma was like a ragdoll in his arms, completely limp. Finally he was able to ungracefully plop her onto the floor. He looked around, arms raised slightly at his sides as his feet remained planted willing his mind to start functioning again certain that if anyone would have seen his eyes at that moment they would have thought him mad. _First aid kit. I have a first aid kit in my bag. That's it, I need to go get it._

As quickly as he could he darted out of the bathroom snatching his duffel bag off the bed not wanting to take the time to search through it there not while Emma was unattended in the bathroom.

It took him thirty minutes to stop the bleeding.

Blood soaked toilet paper covered the floor creating a scene that could have come right out of a crime drama. Relief crashed into him when her blood finally started to clot. As carefully as he could he smeared neosporn into the deepest cut with his finger winching as the tip disappeared. Searching through the box for the biggest band aid he could find he spread it over her leg hoping that the slight stretching wouldn't cause it to start bleeding again. When he had done everything that he could he moved to grab a towel from the shelf behind him at this point not caring if Emma thought it sanitary or not. Softly he soaked up as much of the water as he could out of her darkened hair rubbing the fabric softly over her body in motions that in any other situation could have been loving caresses.

Kneeling before her one hand raised up to rest on her cheek he softly told himself as much as her, "You're going to be okay."

He didn't even want to think about attempting to put clothes on her so in the end he had placed her in the bed covering her with so many blankets one would have expected to see a sleeping Mastiff instead of painfully thin woman. Taking up residence on the floor he just stared at her marveling at how peaceful she looked. Standing up and walking around the bed Will stripped down to his boxers and slipped in behind her allowing his body heat to chase some of her chill away.

* * *

His arms were moving or more accurately Emma was moving his arms for him as she began to crawl out from under the covers. He moved to tighten his grip determined to have her stay right where she was. Emma turned towards him and in the soft glow that illuminated the room from a small lamp he could see that her face held no traces of either the euphoria that had enveloped her earlier or the wild eyed expression that had been etched on her face as she had sat pulling shards of glass from her body. The blessed-out state he had discovered her in when he burst into the bathroom was absent as well. She looked normal. She looked like his Emma and he could almost allow himself to believe that they were just sharing a motel room while taking a leisurely road trip. Almost.

"Will, I have to go to the bathroom. Let me up." She giggled.

_Giggled?_

This was a problem. There was no way in hell he was going to let her go in there unattended. That left two options. Will tried option number one first, the least invasive of the two.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry when Emma had confided that she never left the door open when she went to the bathroom due to a scary movie she had seen as a child where a woman had been affronted by a ghost while the door was open. He wanted to tell her that the ghost would have probably found its way in anyways but thought better of it.

That left him with option number two.

In a hushed voice he began, "I don't want you to go in there alone." Again he asked if she could leave the door open assuring her that he would stand just outside to ward off any evil spirits and again she had said no. Taking a breath he continued, "I'm going with you Em, I won't let you go in there alone, at least not tonight." He repeated silently hoping she wouldn't ask why.

Will was certain he had never felt more awkward in his entire life.

He stood facing the door listening to the sound of Emma raising the toilet lid before sitting down.

Silence.

"Do you um…do you want me to turn on some water or something?" _Did I really just say that? She's not two._

"Uh, yeah, water that would be good, yes." Emma's answer thankfully put an end to his inner ramblings about his stupidity.

Backing away from the door careful to never turn around he watched for the sink out of the corner of his eye. _Where is it? It can't be this far back._

A sink he was certain was not supposed to elicit such a feeling of relief.

Quickly he turned the faucet. He had turned it on all the way before he remembered that his mom had always left it as a trickle for him. The blush that crept along his cheeks left him greatful that Emma could not see his face as he moved again to slow down the flow. Carefully he resumed his earlier position by the door wondering if this was really necessary, if he just should have trusted her. It was too late to bow out now.

Will was having a lot of firsts tonight. It was the definitely the first time the sound of a toilet flushing had been music to his ears.

Emma had woken up again during the night. Not even bothering to check the time Will simply wrapped her in a tight embrace knowing without seeing that there were tears sliding down her face.

"How can you still love me?" Emma half-sobbed into his chest.

Will hushed her with a tender kiss to her lips and as he kissed her tears away one by one he told her over and over again all the reasons why he loved her. Within minutes she was asleep and not once in that time had Will really had to think about his next reason.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

They had been back in Lima for four days and today like the other three found Emma basking in the comfort of her living room as she let her mind wander. She wasn't sure what was going on but she honestly just didn't feel hungry anymore. The analytical portion of her mind informed that her hypothalamus had simply given up on sending out hunger cues because the only thing they were doing effectively was wasting energy. The non-analytical portion decided the issue wasn't really an issue if it wasn't entertained.

To be honest in a way she was scaring herself. She knew full well that she was still entrenched in the eating disorder but over the last couple weeks her mindset about the whole thing had changed. The paranoia that had grown to be her constant companion was gone. Although she still could not bring herself to eat anything other than her "safe food" she logically knew even if she ate four bowls a day she would lose weight. She didn't feel the compulsive need to weigh herself on the scale numerous times a day occasionally even going days without checking. The oddest thing was that she had stopped inspecting her body in the mirror and on some level she knew it was because even she didn't want to see what she was doing.

Will had been by her side constantly since her mother's death and even more so since the incident at the motel. Emma had yet to feel another urge to be that numb and she had no idea what had overcome her that night. Often she pushed the memory from her mind embarrassed every time she thought about it. The gash that was still healing on her thigh would someday fade to a large white scar leaving it forever a gruesome reminder.

Emma heard the tell-tale crash of a potted plant and knew Will would be soon to follow. Sure enough he emerged with a sheepish grin carrying a tray with two cups of hot chocolate. Other than oatmeal it was the one thing Emma felt okay about consuming. Besides it was easy to rationalize away at only 110 calories. She had lost track of how many times Will had tried to convince her to use milk instead of water but she steadfastly refused. Why would she want to take something that was a comfortable 110 and push it up to something unacceptable like 210? Even though Emma saw no flaws with this logic every time she said it Will would look just a little more crestfallen.

They sat on the couch Emma's feet tucked underneath Will. She often joked that he was her own personal furnace to which Will would quip that every furnace needed to be repaired once in a while and his "repairs" came in the form of loving kisses from her. Every time she played this game he upped it by one kiss the next time around. Currently she was at seven and truthfully she didn't really mind.

He was due back at school the following week while Emma still had one more off. The apprehension she felt about her own return was gradually becoming indistinguishable from the definition of panic. _What are they going to think of you? You must have gained so much weight? You should weigh yourself. Just to see, just to check._

The voice came and went now only appearing when she was emotionally distraught but Emma knew that it was never really gone because if there was even the slightest chance she might have to ingest something other than what she deemed safe it was there in an instant.

Pulling her feet out from under Will and placing seven kisses on his lips she made her way to the bathroom closing the door behind her only to open it seconds later a note of panic in her tone.

"Will what happened to the scale?"

"Oh crap, I completely forgot about that. I set on the counter this morning and accidently knocked it off. The needle doesn't work anymore so we will have to get a new one."

Emma didn't want a new scale. Emma wanted her scale, the one that had been by her side through all of this,the thing that she had lived and died by and even though she didn't use it every day anymore she still lived and died by it.

* * *

**Will's POV**

He hadn't forgotten about the scale.

He hadn't knocked it off the counter either. Early that morning he had carefully dismantled it sabotaging the simple mechanism that allowed the needle to move.

* * *

Walking the aisles Emma studied each scale intensely. Staring them down as if she were daring any of them to double-cross her, to give her an inaccurate result. Will saw his chance.

"Hey look Em, what about this one? It's digital so it will be accurate down to the ounce." He wanted to kick himself as the words tumbled out of his mouth sounding so disgustingly sincere.

"You want it to be accurate don't you?" Emma was so absorbed in her choices that she didn't seem to notice his sudden interest in her decision. Will all but shoved the box in her face strategically placing his left hand over a small ad in the corner.

"See, perfect." Again he couldn't believe what he was saying. _It's part of the plan. Just keep it up._

Emma acquiesced and they were soon leaving with the package tucked protectively under Will's arm as he thought of ways to get rid of the box before she had a chance to read it.

Deciding simplicity was the best venue he told Emma he would go put the scale away and that she should just rest on the couch. Once locked safely in the bathroom he quickly removed the box stuffing it into a trash bag he had secretly slipped into the waist band of his pants. Placing the new scale were the old one had been Will tried it out. He waited as the zero's flashed in a line before producing his weight. _How did numbers, harmless numbers gain the power to control every aspect of a person's life? _

Content with at least that portion he sat on the toilet deciding 15 minutes would be long enough to tell. When his phone vibrated lightly in his pocket he went over to the scale placing one foot as per the instructions on the platform to turn it on.

It still displayed his weight.

Two things were working in his favor but the last was integral. There was a small barely noticeable button on the side of the scale. He was fairly certain that Emma would never find it because he was making sure she didn't know it was there in the first place. He pressed the button and placed his foot back on the scale to once again turn it on.

Four zero's stared back at him.

Will was not exactly happy about the scale working because he absolutely hated that he even had to have devised this plan. He knew Emma was lying about her weight when he would ask. He could tell she was still dropping and this scale would ensure that even if she lied he would know the truth. _I can't really hold it against her, the lying. If someone were trying to take away the one thing that allowed me to believe I could handle life I would retaliate. I would lie. I would lie even to those I cared about the most. _He knew that was what Emma was doing, protecting her safety net, the trump card she could pull out against the world and he couldn't resent her for that no matter how frustrated he felt.

* * *

Will was starting to lie now.

He had left around ten in the morning saying that he was going for a drive around town. _It's not exactly a lie. I'm in a car. I'm driving and I'm in town._

Lima Public Library loomed above him in bold black lettering as he held the door patiently for frail looking elderly women wondering how she was managing the mountain of books that came up to her chin. _I can barely carry five Spanish textbooks without spilling them all over the hallway. _

On more than one occasion he had noticed the hushed giggles of a group of freshman girls as he bent down to pick them up. On only one occasion he had turned around to find Emma and his usual professional demeanor reserved for the school girls had transformed into a small smirk. Ever since that day he always whirled around after he had gathered what he had dropped because that one time had been enough for him to hope it was her every time.

Entering Anorexia Nervosa into the computer data base he found himself staring at a list so long it seemed never-ending. There were informative books, autobiographies, recovery-help books, documentaries on DVD… everything he was looking for. Committing the corresponding number for the dewey decimal system to his short-term memory he quickly found what he was looking for. He had only been planning on picking up a couple books but an HBO documentary entitled Thin had caught his eye as well. He had opted for a variety of books, one an autobiography by Carrie Arnold, two about the recovery process and another about life after anorexia.

He was running out of options and though he hated to admit it there was an unmarked number saved in his phone and more than once he had pressed end just as the receptionist for the Lima Eating Disorder Unit answered. Will knew that he was foraying into deep water and that in this water he didn't even know enough to keep his head above the surface.

* * *

As his trusty (sometimes) car pulled into the driveway he carefully placed the books in a Hallmark bag before taking a breath and heading for the apartment.

Emma was still on the couch a bowl of untouched oatmeal sitting on the coffee table in front of her. He decided not to mention it. Sneaking up behind her he murmured "Close your eyes."

Emma made to turn around.

"Ah, I said close your eyes, Em," he chuckled.

Peeking around he could see that her eyes were closed a small smile tugging at the edges of her mouth.

"Wait here."

Swiftly Will moved across the living room with his secret firmly in hand. There was a spare bedroom that was never used ensuring a perfect hiding place. A while back he had saved an oblong box that was flat enough to fit under a bed and although he hadn't had a reason behind his actions at the time he was glad he had done it now. Arranging the books and DVD into the box he slid it under the bed. Geez, _I feel like a teenager hiding porn from their parents._

Re-entering the living room Will stopped a few feet away from Emma kneeling before her.

"Open your eyes," he said punctuating each word with a tender kiss.

"Do you promise to keep kissing me if I do because otherwise I think I would rather keep them closed," Emma borderline moaned.

"I could never stop kissing you Emma."

" It's like that one note in that one song that you keep going back to because every time it ends you only want to hear it again. Your kisses are like that one note in that one song and I will never stop hitting repeat."

Making sure that his face was the first thing Emma saw he placed a small, blue rectangular box on her lap. He watched as her mouth fell open slightly as her hands reached out for the lid. She gasped as she pulled out a silver chain necklace with a small pendant.

"Turn it over sweetie."

Inscribed on the back was a small music note with the words "You're my one note," scrawled eloquently in the space below.

"Will, why-" Emma started.

Gently he brought his hand up and closed her mouth allowing his thumb to trace her chin.

"Just because."

* * *

A/N: I know I ran you guys through the gauntlet emotionally speaking with this one. What can I say I'm addicted to Wemma hurt/comfort/angst. Soon Will be directly confronting Emma about her eating disorder. I haven't had him do it yet because I am allowing him the time to research the topic and try things on his own.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I completely forgot that I was going to mention the funeral/inurnment (yes, it's a word) and that she feels her mom is nothing more than a pile of cremains (also a word even though Word disagrees) in the last a/n. I really didn't want to delve into those issues but from time to time Emma will reflect on them so you will sort of be able to piece stuff together.

I sincerely apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors. I'm so incredibly tired but I wanted to post this. Sorry for the lag in updates as much as I love Shakespeare (and have no problem sitting down to read) my utter loathing (and subsequent procrastination of reading) my current world literature book has left me scrambling to get stuff read before class.

Thank you for your absolutely amazing reviews! It's an indescribably addicting feeling to know that people are not only enjoying your writing but are able to identify with the characters especially when the last "story" you remember writing was in third grade.

I apologize for how short this is, I'll make up for it.

Watch out for some Wemma…

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will noticed her smile falter before her eyes searched his pain and confusion evident behind them as a small tear began to work its way down her cheek.

"What are you apologizing for Will?" she looked down as she asked the question as if she was ashamed of what the answer would be.

"Emma sweetie, why would you think that? Where did you even learn that?"

"My mom always bought me things after we had an argument instead of actually saying she was sorry. Just because never means just because Will, there is always something behind it."

"Hey, look at me Em."

Emma slowly brought her eyes back to his but he could tell she was staring slightly to the left, still not meeting his gaze.

"Emma, I promise you that if it comes from me all it will ever mean is just because. Just because I love you."

Gently he fastened the necklace around her neck before cupping her cheek gently.

"Beautiful."

Pulling her to her feet they walked down the hall to the bedroom and Will was glad the darkness was there to hide his small smile when Emma fell asleep with one hand lightly gripping the chain.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Staring at what she assumed was supposed to be a calming picture of a tree next to a river Emma lightly fingered the chain around her neck. Her reservations about the gift beng a symbol of apology had vanished after he had told her she was beautiful. She had finally looked directly at him and his face had been so sincere, so loving, that for once in her life Emma accepted that "just because" might really be nothing more than "just because."

She knew her psychiatrist would be calling because that's just what they do when your four-year "never miss an appointment" streak suddenly ends for three months. Quite frankly Emma was surprised he hadn't called earlier. There was a time when she had been completely dependent on those weekly appointments. They were a reprieve from her mysophobic, obsessive-compulsive metaphorical corner of the world, a corner that had changed dimensions, shifted into the realm of calories, oatmeal and scales. Emma knew that many of the underlying components were the same just like she knew the eating disorder was holding her mysophobia at bay but delving into that issue, separating where her mysophobia and OCD ended and where her eating disorder began just seemed pointless. Why interfere with what works, and what she was doing now, the way she was living was far more effective than any therapy had ever been. She was her own therapist and no longer needed a certified one especially a certified one that had an M.D. tacked on the end of their name.

Contemplations such as these swirled violently within her mind as she waited for her psychologist to stride into the room, to step back into her life. For first time she didn't want to see him because for the first time she realized he held the power to turn her safe little regimented world upside down. He had the authority rip away everything that was holding her together. He had the power to destroy everything she had worked so hard to achieve.

She watched nervously as the door opened and a familiar balding man walked in his face holding the same open expression it always had, the one that she could never resist smiling back at.

Until today.

Really she wasn't sure what was making her so nervous. _Maybe because you know somewhere deep inside that the weight loss is apparent no matter how much you believe otherwise. _It was just her psychiatrist, the same guy she had been seeing every Thursday for the past four years_._ Occasionally she wondered why she continued to make appointments she had reached an impasse with her mysophobic, OCD symptoms about a year back but like everything else these weekly appointments were part of a routine. _He's known me for four years and in that time not once has he altered my diagnosis. I'm safe._

Emma absentmindedly answered his questions about how she was doing and whether or not she had been sleeping. She didn't even give it a second thought when his questions deviated from the norm. "How often do you feel the need to re-wash your hands?" transforming into "Would you say that you fear food?" or how "Did you sanitize your hands after walking into this room?" was substituted with "When was your last menstrual cycle?" It was just way he operated an endearing tendency to free-associate. There had been many occasions when they had ended up discussing topics entirely unrelated to the reasons she was here, usually topics that involved Will. He probably knew just as much about Will as she did.

Had she been paying closer attention she probably would have noticed that there was a very strong association between his questions. A symptom's of anorexia nervosa theme.

_Axsis I: Anorexia Nervosa _graced the top of the page that currently rested in Emma's trembling hand. Not able to find any words she just stared as if by magic the words might start talking back to her and maybe inform her as to how she had been so oblivious to something that had been so obvious. _Would you say that you fear food? Have you ever binged? Do you restrict what you eat? When was your last menstrual cycle? She had a bachelor's in psychology_. _Why the hell didn't I realize what was going on?_

She wanted to be terrified by the words because everything about what she had been taught indicated that she should be. In the back of her mind she knew this mental disorder had not only the highest death rate but also the highest relapse rate but none of those facts really mattered. Those words were like a bridge connecting the frantic, illogical world she had been living in to a structured, logical one. This world had exact definitions and symptoms and research. Her world had nonsensical behaviors and a hellish inner voice. Emma would do anything to maintain order in her life and the tantalizing prospect that she could officially rationalize her way of life, her descent into something she really hadn't known she had been trying to achieve meant order even if it did come with a prefix.

* * *

She had stared at the paper for hours back in the safety of her apartment before safely tucking it in the top drawer of her dresser. She wasn't going to show Will. She knew and that was all that was all she cared about. Finally she had tangible proof that she could succeed at something, that she had crossed the line that separated disordered eating from an eating disorder. In the back of her mind she had accepted that she was anorexic a long time but telling yourself that and actually seeing it written out were two entirely different things.

Buoyed by the results of the day she began bustling about the apartment cleaning things that hadn't been touched in quite a while. Never had so much dust taken up residence on her furniture before but the buzz she was currently experiencing didn't allow her to worry about it that much.

Emma turned her ipod on and hooked it up to the speakers deciding that she definitely needed some music. She hadn't listened to music in weeks which was out of the norm for her especially considering Will had been around. She would have been lying if she had said the only reason she was turning the music on now was because she had missed it. An article had recently popped up in her inbox about the effects of music on dopamine in the brain. Apparently when people listened to music they experienced a rush of dopamine (that in and of itself came as no surprise to Emma dopamine was behind everything that made you feel good) which actually was shown to have decreased the participants feelings of hunger. She grinned to herself as the opening notes began to fill the room. Emma had an entirely new reason to listen to music.

* * *

**Will's POV**

It had been a hellishly long day. First Sue had spat out a hair jokes for every day he had been gone (saying she was only making sure to stay caught up, that she had one for every day of the year and didn't want to push any of them into the next year) then he had spilled coffee down the front of his shirt the off-white coloring causing the stain to match his hair perfectly which of course Sue had ran with declaring to everyone that William Schuester did not only gel his hair but that he dyed it as well. By the time Glee rolled around he was ready for some song and dance, ready that is until he began to work with Finn on the new choreography as Rachel shot him glares from her seat for giving a solo to Quinn. _I don't need this right now._

By the time he had managed to drag himself home all he could even think about doing was crashing on the couch. As he reached for his keys he could hear the distinctive sounds of Emma's latest musical obsession, The Light in the Piazza. To be honest he really did like the musical, it was sweet and innocent and he thought he did a pretty good job at keeping up with the male lead. Any other night he would have loved to sing with her because it was something that always seemed to cheer her up, something that allowed him to catch little glimpses of the Emma he knew was buried within the unrecognizable person she had become.

He opened the door to a giggling Emma proclaiming that she "knew the sound of touch me," before taking his hand and placing it on her rear. Normally he would have thought such an action cute and normally he would have pulled her into a hug as he sang the next line, "I think I hear the sound of wrap your arms around me," but his heart wasn't in it. He simply smiled and kissed her on the cheek before heading for the bedroom to change out of his school attire.

Unknotting his tie he pulled out the top drawer of Emma's dresser actually deciding to put it away for once. After morning after stressful morning of not being able to locate a tie he was determined to make this a habit, besides all he needed was to manage it for 9.5 weeks. That sounded far more daunting then two, he hated it when people published results of stupid studies and he hated it even more when those magazines were the only thing he could get his hands on to read in the lunchroom.

Usually he paid no attention to where he threw his clothes once he opened the door something Emma absolutely detested but as part of his self-imposed new habit forming agenda he rolled it up. Moving to place it in the back left corner of the drawer he noticed a small corner of a folded piece of paper underneath a pair of Emma's underwear. He knew shouldn't look at it but he was certain it hadn't been there this morning. He would have definitely noticed it seeing as he had to refold everything in the drawer after he had tore everything out looking for a tie. That was the main reason behind the whole "start actually putting my damn ties away," development. He really didn't want to have to be as precise as Emma was when it came to folding things. It had taken forever.

Glancing around to make sure Emma hadn't snuck in without his knowledge he slid the paper from its hiding place. It was crinkled to the point of looking well-worn, like it had been folded and unfolded far too many times.

_Axis: I Anorexia Nervosa_

Nothing mattered to Will at that moment except the implications behind those words, he didn't know what _Axis I_ meant but he definitely knew what _Anorexia Nervosa_ was and the date on the paper showed that it shouldn't look as weathered as it did. It was dated today. _When did she go to her psychiatrist? _He had been trying to get her to set up an appointment for months and every time she said she would but not one of those times did she actually make the call.

Will plopped down on the bed nearly falling off when he had sat a little too close to the edge causing the mattress to give under his weight. Scooting back his focus remained locked on those words. Up until now he had been able to live in an unstable state of denial. He knew Emma had an eating disorder. The little blue checkmarks he had made in one of the books he had gotten from the library next to the clinical symptoms of anorexia nervosa was permanently etched in his mind but even then he had been able to convince himself that maybe it wasn't true, after all he wasn't a psychiatrist. It wasn't his job to diagnose.

He had stopped trying to understand the rationale behind the delusion he had created but he couldn't play this game anymore, he couldn't afford to sweep this under the rug any longer. This man was a psychiatrist and Will couldn't deny the black and white lettering no matter how much he wanted to. On impulse he squeezed his eyes closed willing it to go away. _What were you expecting? Magic? _

There was no room for gray in a black and white diagnosis.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts and subsequently realizing how inaccurate that turn of phrase really was he placed the paper back where he had found it not really wanting to follow the path his feet were forging without his permission.

* * *

What the scale said and what Emma had told him that morning weren't matching up.

It wasn't that much of a stretch for him to figure out which one wasn't telling the truth. He had always told himself that when the scale read 90 he was going to say something but every time he had thought about what words to use he had dismissed the issue because it hadn't happened yet and part of him had maintained that it never would, that somehow everything would turn around before it got that bad. It had happened, everything was still swirling in the same spiral it had been and because of his reluctance to admit the reality of the situation at hand he had no idea what to say.

Leaning his forehead against the door he began running through possible scenarios in his mind. None of them sounded right. He didn't want to be unabashedly direct about the initial confrontation. He was saving that for later. Not only did he not want to come off as threatening to Emma but it just really wasn't his style. He wanted to approach this in a gentle way, in a manner that showed a sort of quiet resolve that this had to be addressed.

Will recognized the sounds of "Say it Somehow" starting again. _That can be filed away under cruel irony: definition, of._ It was when Emma began the first line that an idea tentatively bubbled to the surface. Those three words mirrored his predicament so much it was disgusting and yet maybe exactly the venue he needed.

Waiting for the chorus Will stepped out into the hallway walking in time so that when he started to sing "I know the sound of touch me," he was directly in front of Emma. He stared at her intently conveying an entirely different message than the song was. Emma had stopped singing, a questioning look upon her face.

"I think I hear the sound of wrap your arms around me." Will sang softly as he began to slowly lift her shirt. The interwoven harmonies and never ending descending and ascending notes that made up the second half of the chorus swirled around them as he slowly removed her shirt letting it drop ungracefully to the floor at her feet. Will simply stood in front of her not moving until a few measures before the words he was waiting for began to play across the speakers.

Raising his hands he ran them down her ribcage allowing his fingers to dip in between every bone as they softly followed the contour of her body downwards to rest on her protruding hip bones. Emma wasn't breathing and he knew it wasn't from arousal. Will softly whispered, "How can I," before the actual words of "say it somehow" played inserting the word "you" for "I" in the answering line of "I will understand."

Looking directly into Emma's eyes he repeated in a gentle but serious tone, "How can I say it somehow you will understand? How can I make you see what you are doing to yourself?"

"Emma, sweetie, we need to talk."

* * *

Emma hadn't spoken since he had uttered that one sentence but he knew she wasn't mad at him. If she were then she wouldn't be curled up with him in bed like she currently was her hand on his heart while her breath tickled his neck.

Once again Will found himself in a sticky situation as Emma began to lift his shirt her hands skimming along his chest and once again as he moved to speak she cut him off.

"Please show me you love me before you realize how crazy I am."

"Emma, you know I love you and I do not think you are crazy. You know I don't." Will cooed into her ear.

"Make me forget."

Will didn't have to turn around. He knew what he would find staring back at him would be the same scared, insecure, comfort-seeking Emma that he had seen that night at the hospital. There was a one major difference between tonight and that night, they weren't in a hospital while her mom died. They were locked in a warm embrace in her apartment and Will knew that denying her what she wanted right now would leave more of a scar than she was capable of handling. This wasn't exactly how he had pictured things going. They hadn't had sex yet and he was going to keep it that way but that didn't mean he couldn't show her how loved she was, make her forget. It was the least he could do because if he were honest with himself he was just as scared as she was about what tomorrow would bring.

Will brought her lips to hers whispering a soft "I love you" before he began to move his mouth against hers. There was nothing heated behind the gesture, nothing frantic, just comfort and love.

There was a lamp on in the corner basking the room in a soft glow and Will knew he was going to have to shield his reaction to her body_._ _She's going to be skinny but she's still your Emma and she needs this._

Emma was already working at pulling her sweatpants down during which Will had caught something about wanting to feel close to him. He let his arms encircle her waist as he closed the distance between them as he began to pepper the side of her face with soft kisses. Moving so that she was beneath him he brought his mouth down to that spot just below her ear still taking delight in her reaction. She hadn't ever put her shirt back on from earlier so that left only her bra. As he moved a hand to unclasp it Emma raised up simply sliding it over her head showing how big the garment really was on her small frame.

Staring down at her he controlled his reaction at the sight of her breasts. There were almost non-existent. He shot her a small smile before lowering his head and taking a nipple gently between his lips sucking softly figuring out what she liked and what she didn't using her moans as a guide. He kissed his way across to her other breast lavishing it with the same attention. Emma was moaning louder now and Will had to bite back a chuckle when she bucked her hips up after a well-placed gentle nip.

Carefully he changed their position so that he was lying on his side with Emma on her back next to him his lips blazing a trail down her neck as his hand worked its way down her body. When his hand found her inner thigh he paused momentarily.

"This okay Em?"

Her only response had been to push her hips gently into his hand which clearly indicated that she was more than fine with the way things were progressing. As his hand moved to cup her center he moved his mouth up to her ear to whisper sweet nothings that to her, he knew, meant everything.

When he brushed his thumb across her sensitive nub she gasped his name or at least what he thought had been his name somewhere along the way it had become lost in a whimper.

"That's it Em, just relax sweetie. Nothing else matters right now, nothing but you and me." He applied more pressure with his thumb as he gently slipped one finger inside of her. _God, she's wet. _He watched her face intently to see if she was okay with what he was doing before he quickened the pace of his thumb and gently began to thrust his finger in and out of her.

"Good girl, "he murmured softly as her moans grew in intensity. He could tell she was getting close, her walls were beginning to clamp down on his finger, slowly he inserted one more digit this time not able to contain his small laugh when she said a word that he didn't often hear come out of her mouth. _Note to self: in the future get her to say that again._

The combination of both his fingers inside her and his thumb moving in a quick circular motion had left her writhing beside him and even given everything Will still thought she was beautiful.

"Close your eyes, sweetie," he watched as Emma's eyes slid closed her head moving to rest against his neck her hot breath coming in out in short gasps against his skin. It wasn't long before he felt her walls begin to contract around his fingers his name falling from her lips before she roughly bit down on his neck riding out her orgasm. Will had hissed slightly when she bit down not expecting it but that didn't stop the action from being undeniably sexy. _Who would have thought Emma Pillsbury would bite in bed? _Someday Will decided he was going to discover all the little things she did, all the things that would undoubtedly drive him insane.

Will continued to whisper endearments against her skin as her breathing evened out while one of his hands made lazy circles on her stomach. When she seemed content to just lay there he quickly got up returning with a damp wash cloth that he lovingly cleaned her off with. Throwing the cloth on the floor he grabbed the quilt that at some point had gotten subjugated to the foot of the bed and wrapped them both inside. Emma snuggled against him murmuring a soft thank you into his neck.

"I won't leave you Emma. I want you to know that. I will help you through this. We will get through this, together. You have to be willing to let me help you though, you have to be willing to try."

A soft, scared yet determined "okay" was uttered into his neck and for right now that was good enough for him.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Again this chapter was sort of an outlet for me. I've had a fairly intense morning my mind entertaining some of the things Emma conveys to Will in the first part of this chapter. I do feel better now.

I was re-reading my last chapter and I hope it wasn't a huge disappointment to anyone. I'm not exactly sure I'm happy with it, at least parts of it. My apologies if it seemed radically different from the other ones.

Fluff and angst as usual!

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will wasn't exactly sure what woke him but the clock on the nightstand told him it was four in the morning and the absence of heat next to him told him Emma was no long in bed. Crawling out of bed a plethora of scenarios flashed through his mind most dealing with her having panicked during the night about the events that were going to take place or that the voice he knew she couldn't fight against had told her to run. He tried to keep at bay his fear that she had fled the apartment because he knew it would be impossible to find her if she had.

Rounding the corner into the living room he could make out the distinct sounds of Emma softly crying in the dark. She usually always cried silently and she always went off by herself to do so ashamed to let Will see her when she couldn't control what she was feeling. He called out her name softly and followed the sound of her breathing. She was behind the couch, a favorite spot of hers. Even though she had a mild case of claustrophobia it didn't stop her from finding the smallest place she could squeeze herself into when she was upset. Using his hands to feel along the couch he stepped around back crouching down in front of her. When he asked what was wrong her answer was the last thing he had expected.

"Why did I have to be the one to choose Will?" her words halted and rough as they she forced them out between silent sobs.

"Why did you have to be the one to choose what sweetie?"

"Why was I the one who had to end her life? Why me? He was there, he should have done it." Her next words were uttered so softly that he had to lean forward to make them out.

"Sometimes I feel like I killed her."

Will let out a long sigh before reaching out, "Hey, shh c'mere." he leaned back against the couch pulling Emma into a tight embrace.

"You didn't kill her, Em. Emma, honey please don't think that." He paused to take a breath before he continued, "She wouldn't have had any sort of a life, everyone knew that it's just that you were the only one strong enough to make the decision. You did not kill your mother" he repeated emphasizing each word.

"The definition murder is the intentional taking of someone's life. It was her life and I intentionally took it."

Will rested his chin on the top of her head as he hushed her not wanting her to continue with that line of thought.

"You weren't the one who took her off. The nurse did, that was what-"he couldn't bring himself to say the word, "She was the one who removed her from the ventilator sweetie, not you." Will knew that those words would be of little comfort with the state Emma was currently in but he could hope.

"That doesn't matter Will. The nurse wouldn't have taken her off if I hadn't made the decision to end her life. To kill her."

Sitting in the silence Will contemplated his next words, "Would you rather she were still hooked up? Emma there was nothing anyone could do. Her organs were failing, it was starting to affect her heart. We both know she wouldn't have wanted to live that way."

Emma sniffled into his shirt as more tears began to fall. He could feel her face twisting up as she began to cry again.

"I wasn't expecting her to gasp for air like she did and when her face turned towards mine when it looked for a moment like she was watching me, I almost fell apart."

"I recited facts as I stood there. Telling myself over and over that what I was seeing, her gasps for air, her face turning white, her eyes rolling back as her mouth fell open was natural. I just stood there holding her hand rationalizing away what was happening to her body using physiology. Her lips turned white due to blood draining because her heart was stopping, her eyes rolled back because the muscles had given out unable to function without the artificial life that had been sustaining them, her mouth fell open for the same reason and she gasped for air because her body was attempting one last effort to keep her alive. I went as far as to think about how her medulla must have still been functioning because it's the most primitive part of the brain and as such it's responsible for all of our reflexive actions the ones we don't have to think about like breathing. When she stopped breathing I thought about the definition of whole brain death about how someone could not technically be classified as brain dead until their medulla had stopped doing its job. I stood there recounting cold, hard facts instead of crying like everyone else in the room, instead of crying because I was watching my mother die."

"Emma, you were in sho-"

"I'm not finished," Emma whispered.

"After a while my thoughts altered and I told her I was sorry but never clarified what for. I told her I would be successful, that I would not fail at life. I told her I loved her. By the time I told her she would be okay she was dead. She never heard those words."

Will started to address her again lines of comfort that he hoped would actually be a source of comfort swimming in his head. As he opened his mouth to speak Emma cut him for the second time. _Stop trying to interject. Cleary she needs to get this out, let her talk._

"When I went back into that room, to get the bag I was so illogically calm. I didn't even glance at her body until I turned around to walk back out. Lying lifeless and cold in a hospital bed was my mom. I put on my hand on her shoulder and for whatever reason simply told her good bye instead of telling her I loved her."

Emma took a breath to continue and Will started rubbing circles on her back providing a simple gesture of encouragement as she spoke about something she hadn't been able to let go of yet.

"Watching the pall bearers especially my high school music teacher I couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking. Walking out of that church, my hand wrapped in my father's as we slowly made our way through the people lined up on either side of us the wind blowing my hair across my face I watched my mom's casket be loaded into that hearse with the same calmness that I had felt as she died. Everyone was congratulating me on the reading I had given saying how accurately it described my mother. They praised me for getting up to do such a thing as they told me with pained eyes that would have never been able to do it without breaking down. What they didn't know was that I had sat down and wrote that at six that very morning, that the words had simply just flowed out of me and it felt to me like I was back in college writing a paper for an English class. I'm glad I never went to view her in the casket. I didn't want to see her like that. What I saw was real. What was occupying that casket was fake, an illusion and nothing more."

She had been rambling on for quite a while now her voice adopting a sort of detached tone as if she didn't really want to deal with what she was saying, as if she didn't really want to hear the words even though she had to get them out.

"My mom is nothing more than a pile of cremains encased in a vault six feet underground and that is all she ever will be for the rest of my life. She wasn't supposed to die Will, and every time I think about how she looked at me with an expression that wasn't really present, with eyes that may have been holding back tears I wonder if she was saying that she loved me or was she apologizing because she knew she was going to die? I want to know if she was scared. If that was the reason that while she was still conscious she moaned softly and raised her head when her mother started to remove her hand from her forehead. I hadn't really thought about that, if she was scared and I never really thought about what she might have been thinking as I left the room to preoccupied with my own awkwardness to stay longer than minutes at a time."

A harsh sob shook her entire body as she told him in a dark, cynical voice about how her mom had joked that she was going to have to wait for her birthday present because she couldn't remember where she had put it. Will was at a complete loss for words when Emma told him about standing in her mother's room after the funeral and on impulse opening the top dresser drawer she hadn't touched in years only to find a small book in the back corner. On the inside cover in what was clearly her mother's handwriting was, "Happy Birthday, I love you!" The book had been about overcoming your fears and finding yourself, a book that Emma had always longingly glanced through in bookstores but had never bought.

"How messed up is that? Not an hour after her funeral I found my birthday present? Out of everything I could have opened or looked through in that room I chose the one drawer that contained the last thing she will ever give me."

Will held Emma against him until he felt the slight shaking of her body cease. Very gently he scooped her up into his arms side-stepping his way from behind the couch silently carrying her back to the bedroom lovingly tucking her under the covers before his arms once again found hers.

"I'm so glad you're here Will. I can't imagine having to deal with all of this on my own."Emma spoke almost inaudibly into his neck.

"I'll always be here Em. Always."

* * *

It was eleven in the morning and he had been up for a few hours now but he had decided he was going to let Emma sleep in. He always felt more physically exhausted after he had broke down emotionally then if he had run a marathon. Besides, it was giving him time to think. He was honored that Emma had trusted him enough to tell her everything that she had and he was relieved that she had finally started to show some signs of grief. He knew that when Emma finally woke she would be embarrassed about her confessions earlier this morning which is what made him decide that he was going to put off their talk. She wasn't in any sort of state to tackle another emotionally taxing issue. If she was the one to bring it up that was another story but for today he resolved to avoid the topic. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try and get her to eat it just meant that he wasn't going to push her past her comfort zone. She had overstepped those boundaries enough as it was already.

Will made an actively concentrated effort to pull himself out of his thoughts and focus on the words in front of him. He had re-read the same paragraph for what must have been the twentieth time and he had absolutely no idea what it was about. Well, that wasn't entirely true he knew it was about eating disorders about how to ease someone into healthier habits step by tedious step. This wasn't going to be a quick fix and although he had known that it wasn't comforting in the least to have his words thrown back at him by a book.

Currently he was on a chapter that dealt with the rigid routines that among many other things anorexics were held hostage by. It wasn't the first chapter in the book it was actually halfway through the book but as he had glanced through the table of contents he felt this would be a good one to start with for Emma's condition. He had looked up a little bit on Obsessive-Compulsive-Disorder and after he had used an online dictionary to learn the word "comorbidity" he found that eating disorders, especially anorexia were significantly more likely to occur in those diagnosed with OCD as opposed to the general population. Not having the time to read the page then he had printed if off and browsed his way through it during his lunch break. Basically the routines of anorexia were highly appealing to those who were already unable to function without the completion of whatever action that felt compelled to do. Often these people slipped into the disorder not really noticing any change and not realizing what was going on until it was quite severe even though the disorder was alleviating some of their OCD symptoms. That little tidbit had not surprised him. He had been witness to Emma partaking in things that her mysophobia and OCD would have normally prevented her from doing. What had led him to start with this chapter had been the last paragraph in which it was explained that once someone with OCD began to work on recovering from their eating disorder there OCD tendencies would return with a vengeance, as if the removal of one coping mechanism paved the way for another. Of course with Emma he had the added complication of her mysophobia to contend with

Upon hearing Emma move down the hallway Will quickly hid the book in the first place he could find, the cupboard she used to store office supplies. It wasn't the best of hiding places but it would work for now as long as he remembered to come back and get it later. He was fairly certain Emma wouldn't be needed a stapler this morning or at least he hoped she wouldn't.

Getting up and padding across the carpet he kissed her gently on the cheek.

"Morning sleepyhead."

Emma didn't actively acknowledge him but her bottom lip stuck out a bit as she berated him for letting her sleep so long rambling on about how half the day had been wasted and that she hadn't slept this late in years.

Choosing to ignore her comments Will informed her that the day was not wasted in the least and that they should go out and do something just to get out of the house. Staying cooped up in an apartment all day probably wasn't doing much for her mood and besides he was going a little stir crazy as well.

Emma had (as he expected) initially turned down his idea but after a bit of prodding on his part and a promise that they would stop by the park to feed the "retarded geese" as she called them who had yet to fly south for the winter she gave in. He knew that was one of her favorite things to do. It was also one of his favorite things about her because he had never expected her to do something as out of the ordinary as feeding geese. They had been driving towards her apartment one afternoon when Emma had taken a left where she should have taken a right. Will all too aware of her directional deficiencies had quipped in a monotone voice,

"Recalculating."

Emma had just turned her head and offered him one of her cute little closed-mouth smiles Will could never get enough of. He had gazed silently out the window as Emma had veered into one of the few public parks in Lima. This was one of the nicer ones with a large lake that flowed through, a quaint little bridge that was just the right size to walk hand and hand with someone as you crossed to the other side. There was also a dog park and on the few occasions Will had come here alone he had always gone in and played with the dogs. Will had always wanted a dog although he had yet to decide on what kind, he wasn't fond of the stereotypical American dogs that could be found in nearly every household and yes he was aware that that was being quite snobbish but he liked being unique. Another secret ambition of his (once he had the dog) was to (hopefully) compete in a relatively new sport known as Canine Freestyle. It was essentially getting your dog to do a variety of tricks in time with a song even though many of the owners clearly didn't know how to dance they still had a great time. With his penchant for dancing he knew they would do well the only problem was that he had never trained a dog before in his life. _Minor details._

He had watched bemusedly as Emma had pulled a loaf of bread out of the trunk untying the top as she walked towards the lake. Will hadn't been able to contain his smile. _Emma drove all the out here, a mile out of her way, to feed geese! _It was surprising, adorable and undeniable endearing. The geese had begun to swim towards her clearly used to people throwing out tidbits of food. Emma tore up pieces and skillfully chucked them into the water making sure to throw some of them further back to the slightly more skittish ones. In the end Will too was throwing bread laughing like a kid as they fought over who was going to get each piece. This was something he had never done, something he had never even considered doing and truthfully he probably wouldn't do it again unless he was with Emma.

* * *

Emma after agreeing to accompany Will when he had promised they would go feed the geese couldn't hide the small smile as they pulled up to what was probably one of the only roller-skating rinks that had managed to squeak its way through the younger generations lack of interest in the activity. She loved to roller skate, a guilty pleasure she had divulged once as they had been sharing lunch in her office. Apparently Will had remembered her comment. _He alwas remembers. _

Running around the side of the car to open her door his face was alight with his characteristic boyish grin. Allowing him to take her hand she began to walk beside him just for fun throwing in a little kick-step she had learned years ago when she had been in high school marching band effectively bringing her in step with him. Will snorted and threw in his own kick-step laughing as they fell right back to being perfectly out of step. They continued their little game until they reached the door which Will once again opened for her making a grand swooping gesture with his arm to usher her inside.

Emma didn't have to look at Will to know how excited he was. Besides the way he bounced over to the counter blurting out both their sizes pretty much told her anyways. He had bounced his way back over again with the skates Emma had always found absolutely disgusting._ Did they really have to be that awful tanish-brown color? _The orange wheels they always sported had never accomplished anything more than cementing her opinion.

Struggling with the laces she had been a combination of relieved and embarrassed when Will after having already laced his up in a matter of seconds had knelt in front of her taking one skate-covered foot in his hand.

"Em, how the hell did you manage to get a knot as bad as this one in under twenty seconds?" his voice was full of laughter as he worked to undo the damage she had done.

Will slapped her lightly on the knee when he was finished gracefully walking across the carpet and gliding out onto the floor. Emma not so gracefully made her way across the carpet, using the wall as a source of balance while Will watched with an amused smirk as he began to skate backwards motioning for her to follow.

Once on the floor Emma was fine and she was able to catch up with Will quickly or at least she almost had. As soon as she was less than five feet away from him he had swirled around pushing off with one foot creating a burst of speed that left him easily twenty feet away.

"Bet ya can't catch me," he sing-songed.

Not usually one to partake in challenges Emma mimicked his earlier action a look of determination forming on her face. _I'm going to catch him._

The rink was full of laughter as every time she got close he would somehow manage to pick up more speed leaving Emma back at square one. Deciding to employ one of the few things she remembered from high school geometry Emma cut across the middle of the rink making a straight line for Will. She ignored his accusations that she was cheating. Emma really didn't care she wanted to catch him and at this point she was going to use whatever advantage she could get.

Will had begun to move forward obviously trying to move out of her line of direction but at the last minute Emma had altered course just enough that she was able to grab onto one of the belt loops on his jeans shouting out a gleeful "I caught you!"

He kept moving forward a triumphant Emma allowing herself to be pulled along behind him. Using the belt loop to gain leverage she slid forward to wrap her hands around her waist. She hadn't been expecting the loop to give under the added pressure and the consequences of such still had her wrapping her hands around Will's waist although instead of it being gentle it was now a flailing action to keep from falling backwards.

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**Will's POV**

Will felt the belt loop break but he hadn't been expecting Emma to desperately grab hold of him. He had actually been preparing to turn around and mockingly chide her before pouting about her ruining his favorite pair of jeans. Instead he found himself falling backwards landing ungracefully on his rear thankfully right next to Emma instead of on top of her. He had worriedly asked if she was okay but his worry turned into a loud burst of laughter when he saw tears streaming down her face. Tears that for once were caused by her own laughter. Will decided right then and there that despite all that was looming on the horizon this moment right now, right here was nothing short of perfect.

He leaned in to plant a chaste kiss on her nose before extending his hand to help her up. How he was able to get them both off the ground without falling again was a mystery he probably would know never the answer to.

"Whaddya say we take a break. My calves hurt, actually now that I think about it so does my butt." he grinned cheekily.

Leading them both off the floor he let Emma grip his shoulder one they hit the carpet until they reached a table and chairs. Informing her that he would be right back he made his way to the counter to continue a tradition he had formed in childhood.

He couldn't contain his grin as he headed back over to Emma. Her face was flushed and her pony tail had stray strands of hair poking out all over. Secretly he had always loved the sight of her frazzled hair. It was a rare occurrence. No matter how much he tried to convince her that it was okay if her hair wasn't perfect she had always run off to straighten it out. She wouldn't today though the treacherous trip across the carpet would prevent her from even attempting it.

"You're cute like this."

I'm a mess like this, " Emma had deadpanned but he could see the twinkle in her eyes. _Thank god she's having fun._

Will didn't wait long before he tore into his box of sour patch candy popping a few into his mouth and sighing contentedly. The only time he ever ate these was when he was either at the movies or roller-skating. He didn't want to break tradition even if sometimes it was his ulterior motive for dragging Emma to the theatre.

Emma watched him carefully an intent expression on her face as she worried her lip obviously lost in deep thoughts. Will had blissfully closed his eyes so he could enjoy the flavor of his childhood candy even more so he didn't notice her hand slowly reach across the table.

"Ca-Can I have one, maybe? Emma inquired in a timid yet firm voice.

Will couldn't believe his ears and since his eyes had been closed they were his only sense to rely upon. Opening his eyes he gave her an award winning smile as he dropped one into her hand.

"I don't like the green ones. Can I have a yellow?" her voice held a bit of amusement this time.

"But those are my favorite," he whined before dumping a pile out in his hand picking through them for a yellow. His luck it was the last one but he absolutely didn't care, not in the least.

Placing the yellow candy in her hand he nodded his encouragement as she slowly raised it to her lips. For a moment Will thought she was going to back out when she had started to move her hand away again and he held his breath that she wouldn't.

He didn't have any words when she had finally placed the candy in her mouth chewing slowly before swallowing looking like she was waging a silent war with the voice in her head. _Actions speak louder than words._

Gripping the edge of the table for support he leaned across bringing his lips to hers for a loving kiss. Slowly he traced her bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside groaning softly not because of what he was doing but because for the first time in longer than he could remember he was tasting something other than oatmeal. Her tongue found its way into his mouth for a few seconds before he broke away settling himself back into his chair simply gazing at her in admiration. He was unable to fathom how difficult that must have been and he couldn't remember a time when he had been more proud of her.

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**Emma's POV**

Emma loved sour patch candy or at least she could vaguely recall a time when she had loved it. She wanted that back, she wanted a piece of that candy. _I think._

Not believing it when her mouth moved to ask Will for a piece seemingly of its own accord she briefly wondered if it had been in her head. The slight weight of a green sugar-coated candy confirmed that she had indeed said it out loud. After having Will exchange it for a yellow one feeling a warm fuzzy feeling when she realized it was the last one she watched as her hand inched towards her mouth.

_Think about what you are doing. This isn't safe. This is the farthest thing from safe. This is worse than eating at McDonald's. This is sugar-coated fat. Fat that is waiting to cling to your body and make you nothing more than a useless piece of shit. What the hell do you think you are doing? Failing that's what. You're worthless, your hopeless, your pitiful. Do you want him to leave you? Don't take comfort from that smile. You know it's fake. He's only smiling to try and keep the look of disgust he really wants to give you from showing. Why he's even bothering with this charade anymore when you are so unbelievably fucked up is beyond me. Go ahead bitch, eat up. Open your mouth and shove the fat into your mouth and as it slides down your throat imagine what it will do to you, what it will do to your body. Imagine looking in the mirror tonight appalled at your actions, consumed with guilt as your eyes rake over the fat that has formulated on your thighs, your arms and most of all look at the revolting bulge of fat on your stomach. Eat up as you please but don't forget how your stomach will stick out past your ribs. You know wha, I've changed my mind how you will look after this failure of yours takes second place. If you do this you can no longer deny that you didn't kill your mom. _

That last comment had caused Emma to inch her hand backwards those words were more debilitating than anything the voice had ever said in the past. _No. I'm not going to back out now, not when I'm this close. Not when Will is looking at me with such encouragement. Shut up just shut up. Leave me the hell alone._

Emma placed the candy in her mouth all the while chewing to the chant of the voice telling her over and over that she was responsible for her mother's death. That what she had done had been nothing short of murder.

Will's kiss had saved her from giving into the tears that threatened to form when the word "murder" had resonated in her head. Will was always her saving grace. _Take that, he loves me. He. Loves. Me and I won't let you make me hurt him anymore. You've ruined my life enough. Leave me the hell alone._

Emma slipped her tongue into his waiting mouth to the tune of "You killed your mother."

His expression of pure admiration hadn't stopped the voice from its vicious onslaught of different variations of the same line but it did drown it out just a little. It was still there. It was still definitely noticeable but for once it seemed just a smidge less intense.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will hadn't experienced that wonderful floating on air sensation since he had asked Emma out but he reveled in it now as he led Emma inside. The car ride home had been silent Will resting his hand on her knee letting Emma sort through the hell that was assuredly occupying her every thought. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Emma had eaten that piece of candy. It was a small step, a tediously small step but it was a step in the right direction. Will wasn't naïve he knew that there were going to be steps forward accompanied by steps backward perhaps even more in that direction than in the other but it was a start. _Thank you._

After closing the door he couldn't contain himself any longer. Pulling Emma into a tight hug he gently whispered that he understood just how painful that small action must have been and that he was more proud of her than she could possibly imagine.

Emma had looked down bashfully studying her shoes as if they were an alien life form. Will was okay with that. She had every right to be embarrassed either from how hard it was for her to eat one piece of candy or him mentioning how impressed he was with her. Dipping his head he placed a small kiss on her cheek flicking his tongue out to lick a small line upwards. He grinned against her when he felt her laugh.

* * *

Having read that this would probably happen Will had prepared himself for a line of questions that to be honest he knew were more than just probable but inevitable. He wasn't taken aback at all when Emma had softly asked him if he thought she looked fat, if the candy had made her look fat.

Covering her hand with his he told her that no, he did not think she looked fat and that no, the candy did not make her look fat either. She continued to ask the same questions every few minutes and every time he told her the same thing until she seemed satisfied that maybe he was telling the truth.

It was eight in the evening and with the exception of the sour patch earlier Emma hadn't eaten anything in a few hours. Gently pushing against her he waited until she was standing next to him before grabbing her hand and yanking her back down delighting once again in her squeal of surprise that he hadn't heard since that day in the snow.

"We need to eat," he said keeping his tone purposefully cheerful.

Emma froze against him and he could see that the voice was sabotaging her mind again.

"Come on, up we go,' lifting Emma up as he followed suit placing his hand on her back as both a comforting gesture and a guard against her trying to turn around as they neared the kitchen.

He wasn't going to force her into anything she didn't want to do even though that meant she was going to be meticulously preparing another bowl of oatmeal. He wasn't going to be the cause of her two steps back after her one step forward.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The kitchen was by far the most intimidating place in her house. The only things that made it even the slightest bit bearable were the thoughts of how she always used the same dishes never dirtying more than two bowls and spoons at a time. She always used the same mug for her tea and her hot chocolate. It was an odd source of comfort knowing that all of the other food related items remained untouched. She couldn't remember the last time had used her stove or used other dishes outside of those she always did. She hadn't opened her cupboards for anything other than oatmeal and hot chocolate in months and the cans of vegetables and chicken noodle soup never even garnered so much as a glance. If she opened the fridge it would be delightfully void of anything she might have purchased. Sure it had Will's things in it but those were Will's therefore they didn't apply. As she stood in the kitchen staring at the container of oatmeal she had forgotten to put away that morning those truths and Will's hand on her back were the only things that kept her from turning and running away. _Oatmeal is safe. Oatmeal is safe. _Oatmeal is safe.

_Oatmeal isn't safe after the stunt you pulled today. You ruined the entire day. Nothing is safe._

Emma repeated her mantra about oatmeal being safe as she went about the familiar movements required to make the meal that had become her life. She continued to chant to herself as she took small bites at the kitchen table right up until she had swallowed the last bit. She would have been deluding herself if she were to say that the voice hadn't been bothering her, that she had been able to simply ignore it. It was most definitely there just like it always was once again telling her that she had killed her mom.

"Emma," Will's gentle voice caused her to raise her head.

"What is it saying to you?"

She didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know what "it" he was referring too. She had never really told him what went on inside her head. The only glimpse he had ever received was that night she had binged on the cookies as she had voiced out loud what was racing through her mind without realizing it. He genuinely wanted to know she could tell that from his voice alone and given everything she had put him through and how he had stayed by her side she owed him this much.

"It's telling me that because of what I did, because of eating that candy, that my oatmeal isn't safe that nothing is safe today because I ruined the whole day with that one bite."

Inhaling slowly she continued, "It was the cause behind my pulling my hand back. It changes tactics when I decide not to listen, becomes more brutal, harder to push away. It started telling me that if I ate that piece of candy that I could no longer deny that I hadn't killed my mom. The whole time I was chewing even while I was kissing you it was repeating that line in variations that always implied the same thing. It was hard to ignore, but your kiss, your kiss made it just a little bit easier, a little less intense."

* * *

**Will's POV**

He could feel his face taking on the form of a frown as Emma had relayed what had been going through her mind at that moment. Her words left him wondering how she managed to push her way through anything when an inner narrator criticized everything she did. He truly couldn't imagine what it must be like to live with something like that. To him his mind has always been a companion of sorts helping him to solve problems and push through stressful times. His enemies were always in the form of outside events like the whole thing with Terri. He couldn't even begin to attempt to comprehend what it would be like if your mind turned on you, if it controlled you, if it brought you down so gradually that you didn't even notice until it was so ingrained in you that you couldn't get away. What kind of hell must that be when you could never escape your worst enemy because your worst enemy was your mind?

* * *

Hope you liked!

Thanks again for the wonderful reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Wow I can't believe this is my tenth chapter. I like the way this turned out and hopefully you will too. Few surprises along the way…

Enjoy!

* * *

**Will's POV**

The book on eating disorder recovery lay discarded on the table. He had stopped trying to read it over an hour ago his mind refusing to do nothing but mull over the intimate details Emma had shared with him last night. He had never thought the voice she put up with every day would have been so extraordinarily severe. It was going to take a while to work past that and even then it probably would never truly leave her in peace. _One more thing I can't protect her from._

Will smiled as Emma stretched her arms above her head yawning quietly as she entered the kitchen. For a small moment he really didn't want to start what he knew was going to be a long and daunting road. He didn't want to put her through that torture, the hell her life would become when everything she relied upon was stripped away piece by piece.

She was going to fix oatmeal this morning and he wasn't going to stop her but he was going to try and alter her routine. Even though it would be a small addition it was going to be a significant one for her. _Maybe for me too, I have to become comfortable with pushing her out of her safe zone. I can't shield her forever._

Will couldn't bring himself to smile once Emma's back was turned as she went about the motions he knew she could do blindfolded. Quietly he moved towards the fridge opening the door and reaching inside for a small plastic container. Again he had opted to eat oatmeal he didn't want Emma to feel self-conscious about what she was eating and somehow he knew she would if he wasn't having the same thing especially when her meal would be slightly altered.

Waiting for the ding signaling his oatmeal was done he carefully stood in front of the container holding it behind his back as he walked to the table taking his usual spot beside Emma. She hadn't taken a bite yet but that was okay. If she took the first bite before he tried his idea it would be ten times harder for her to take the next one.

Setting his bowl of oatmeal down he lifted the container from his lap letting come to rest on the table. He watched as Emma eyed it as if it were going to attack. Will smiled hoping to ease the tension.

"Do you want some blueberries? They taste really good with oatmeal."

Emma gently shook her head back and forth but the action did not deter him.

"Come on Em. Ther're just blueberries, they can't hurt you."

"It's okay. I'm going to have some too." Will grabbed a handful of the fruit sprinkling them onto his food.

"Come on, Em. They can't hurt you. I won't let them." He whispered softly repeating some of his earlier words in the hope it would cement them just a little bit.

Her nod was so slight that he almost didn't notice it. Her hands didn't move from beside her bowl and Will made decided to get some for her letting his hand hover over her bowl before releasing his grip on the pieces he was positive she was trying to convince herself were safe.

Will ate his oatmeal as deliberately slow as Emma was eating hers. He wasn't using a long-handled spoon that would have been too obvious. He didn't want her to finish before him just as he didn't want to finish before her. Either scenario would make her uncomfortable the former would ensure she felt like a glutton while the latter would cause her to think he was analyzing her every bite.

When they had both taken their last spoonful Will snatched her hand up from across the table raising it his mouth letting his lips gently grace her skin.

"I'm proud of you, honey."

It was Emma's first day back at school and Will was slightly disheartened when she dressed in some of her more baggy clothes. _Let it go, it makes her feel safe._

There were definitely going to be glances, long ones, thrown her way once people started filing in. He had clarified to her that no one would be staring at her because she was fat that no one would be thinking about how disgusting she looked. He didn't voice what they really would be thinking but he had repeated his words again and again until the look in her eyes told him that maybe she was starting to accept what he was telling her.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

So far her morning had been uneventful, peaceful even. It was oddly comforting to be back in her office where everything had its place. It was reassuring because nothing seemed to have a designated place in her mind anymore.

Faculty members started to drift in bleary-eyed clutching travel mugs of coffee as though it was their only link to the world of the living. People dropped in to welcome her back offering their condolences about the death of her mother. She had been able to dismiss the first few lingering glances she had received replaying Will's words in her mind until the person had turned around to leave. It was Sue's look that she couldn't ignore. She never said anything simply standing there in one of her ridiculous track suits staring with an expression Emma was sure was disgust. No she wasn't just certain she was beyond positive it was disgust because Sue never seemed to have learned the concept that other facial expressions really did exist. _She thinks I'm fat._

_

* * *

_**Sue's POV**

Sue had been contemplating whether or not offering condolences would be too out of character when the sight of the young guidance counselor had stopped her in her tracks. She hadn't intended to stand there so long just she had intended to move so Emma wouldn't see her but she couldn't bring herself to look away. The reality check finally came in the form of the fear that was written all over Emma's face. Sue turned around heading for her office deciding that saying nothing might be the most logical course of action right now.

She needed to talk with Will and for once it wasn't going to be in the form of snide (yet creative) comments about his hair.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will allowed his legs to carry him down the hall while he thought about lunch with Emma. Once again he was going to push her. Glancing down at the ham and cheese sandwich in the baggie clutched in his hand he silently hoped the sight of it wouldn't cause her to run from the room.

Smirking as he began to knock on her door he was transported back to another time as he asked what the song was. _How the heck did she guess Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer?_

Taking his unspoken seat across from her he made sure to keep her eyes locked on his as he set the sandwich on the desk. There were two halves. One for him and one for her, it definitely wasn't a big enough lunch for him and at some point he was going to have to grab something more substantial but he maintained his early logic about not eating more than her.

Emma stared.

"Hey, it's okay. I got whole-grain wheat bread and the lowest calorie ham and cheese there was and even that amount will be cut in half because I want some too." He grinned.

That was enough to lighten the moment giving Emma the courage to tentatively reach out and take a half from where it lay in front of him. Not wanting to make a big deal out of watching her (but still doing so indiscreetly) he noted how she tore the sandwich into painfully small pieces before placing one portion in her mouth.

Will didn't tear his sandwich up but he was careful to keep in time with her pace. She couldn't look at him after she had finished and he knew why.

"Emma, you're not fat. You don't look fat. Ignore it sweetie. Listen to me. I'm right here, right in front of you. Listen to me."

Emma slowly raised her head at his words and although she never offered a smile Will couldn't contain his.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

There was a sandwich in front of her.

Emma hadn't laid eyes on a sandwich in so long she vaguely surprised that she remembered what one looked like. She couldn't even recall the last time she had eaten one. _Don't eat that, don't even touch it. Think. He's just trying to make you fat._

She felt her head nod up and down and watched in a detached manner as her fingers closed around the food and tore it up into small bites. She sat silently as one small terrifying piece moved closer and closer to her lips. She felt rather than tasted the substance in her mouth. _Congratulations. Why do you try? You're hopeless. You're pathetic. All you do is fail._

Pushing her way through the inner narration she managed to finish her half of the sandwich silently grateful that Will was finishing his at the same time. _That's odd normally he always eats faster than me._

It was Will's kind words that saved her from succumbing to the ceaseless incantations about her being a failure. It was Will's gentle yet serious tone that had kept her from running to the nearest bathroom. _It's always his words. They always save me._

At first she wasn't going to bring it up but she couldn't get it out of her mind.

"Sue stared at me Will. Not like everyone else, she just stood there in the hall and stared in disgust."

She watched as Will's lips pressed into a firm line. Emma knew that he hated with a passion Sue's apparent lack of understanding for anything outside of her own warped views about the people she worked with especially when they were directed at her.

"I'll talk to her," he had ground out his voice harsh with barely concealed anger.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will was sitting in his office grading Spanish papers a red pen in his mouth as his black-rimmed reading glasses gradually slid further down his nose. He looked up quickly when his door was thrown open and his eyes widened when the culprit was Sue and not Rachel as he had expected. Will glared for barely a second before he allowed his anger to overcome him.

"Where the hell do you come off Sue? Do you have no empathy? Emma's sick. She's so very sick and you sabotaging her efforts is absolutely unacceptable do you understand me?"

By this point Will had gotten up from behind his desk and had Sue all but pressed up against the wall his face so close to hers that he could see the color of her eyes as he gave her a piece of his mind.

"Leave her alone Sue. I swear to God if you do something that hurts her in any way, _anything_ that hurts her I will find you."

Will stepped back his anger still raging but he had said all that he had intended to say. _Why is she just standing there? Why isn't she yelling back or poking fun at my hair?_

"Will," Sue started in a tone of voice he never expected to hear from her mouth. _Concern?_

"Will I'm not here to berate you. I'm even going to hold off on the hair jokes although the latter is decidedly difficult. I wasn't staring at her in disgust Will. I was lost in memories that I thought I had buried long ago."

"I don't know what you are going through but I do know exactly what she feels like. When I was 17 I was diagnosed with anorexia and that damn disease continued to make my life a living hell for the next three years. I've been through everything she is going through right now. I've been through everything she will be going through and if you will let me I would like to help you. I can give you an insight into her mind that even if she tells you her every thought you will never be able to gain. Let me help Will."

Will didn't know what to say. This was Sue. This was Sue standing in his office offering to help him with something that was not her problem something that she didn't even have to get involved in. _But she wants, of her own accord, she wants to._ She wanted to help Emma break free of the thing that had unmercifully stolen three years of her life. Buried under her condescending bravado, her cynical humor there really was a person, an empathic person.

"Thank you Sue," were the only words he could think of to say.

* * *

They had formulated a slightly shaky plan shaky in the sense that it involved him cutting out of Glee practice early. More shaky in the sense that his absence would leave Rachel in charge for the last twenty minutes. Taking a deep sigh he pushed his way through the choir door mentally prepping for the outcries and rebellion he knew were soon going to be hurtled his way.

Facing each of the kids he explained simply that Emma was sick and that he was going to have leave early for a while to talk with someone about both what he could do to help her and what would only have the opposite effect.

Holding his breath he searched everyone's faces after he had dropped the bombshell about Rachel leading the end of rehearsal. His eyes landed first on Rachel surprised when he didn't find the smug look of satisfaction he had expected. She didn't even appear to be mentally ticking off song possibilities in her head. She appeared…sympathetic. In fact now that he really looked at all of his students each and every one of their faces held nothing but sympathy and understanding.

Mercedes was the first to speak up, "We know Mr. Schue. Go take care of her, we will be fine," throwing a light-hearted glare at Rachel she continued, "Even if she is the one fulfilling your role. Get her better Mr. Schue. We want the old Ms. Pillsbury back."

Will didn't even bother to hide the tears that were slowly tracing their way down his cheeks. How was he so fortunate to have this amazing group of kids? Whispering a strangled "thank you" he clapped his hands in an attempt to distract him from the emotions threatening to overtake him as he handed out some new music. No one said anything when Rachel took over as he silently slipped out the door.

* * *

He waited nervously in Sue's office. Will had never felt comfortable here in this little shrine devoted to one Sue Sulvester. Sue walked in with a smirk on her face and he was certain her earlier remark about holding back on the hair jokes was going was to be dashed but instead her smirk turned into a serious expression as she sat behind her desk folding her hands in front of her.

"What do you want to know," she asked evenly.

"I want to know what to watch for, what signs to watch for that might indicate a relapse. I want to be prepared."

"Good choice, before I continue I have to tell you that virtually no one recovers from anorexia without a relapse at some point and that includes myself. I fell into that trap twice actually. The only difference is that when you start spiraling back into the disorder after you have been working to recover is that you are acutely aware of what you are doing and instead of stopping you that knowledge only serves to spur you on."

Will inhaled deeply before letting his breath out to a beat of four. He had read that but once again he hadn't wanted to apply it to Emma. He had wanted to believe that even though the process would be slow and tedious that she would be able to pick herself up without falling all the way back down.

"Watch for increased activity the hyperactivity indicative of a progressing disorder. Make sure to take note how much she sleeps every night. The initial days of not eating will cause exhaustion but after that her body will up the ante and the amount she sleeps will gradually lessen. Keep in mind that this doesn't mean she won't be able to go to sleep at night. I could always fall asleep even when I was at the worst point, but it could be something as simple as getting up earlier and earlier every morning. Take note of what habits she engaged in when she had prepared her food, if she measured things, whether or not she tore it up into small pieces and if they start manifesting watch even closer. Keep a tab on how often she looks at herself in the mirror if the time lengthens significantly catalogue that away. I don't even have to ask to know the answer to this question so I will simply say, hide the scale."

Glancing at the clock Sue realized they only had five minutes before he had to leave and her Cheerios practice began. There was one point she wanted to clarify.

"Will, a relapse doesn't mean that she will return to the severity that she is trapped in right now. Relapse simply means the onset of eating disordered behaviors whether or not there are as rigid, intense, and dangerous is up in the air. It depends on the person. It depends on just how badly they want the feeling of safety the disorder brought them."

Will had never found any comfort in Sue's words before but he was unable to stop the hitch in his voice as he thanked her stopping to pick up his shoulder bag as he walked out of her office and towards the double doors that led to the parking lot. Emma had driven her own car and had left right at the end of the school day which had worked out in his favor. No amount of explaining would have rationalized away him having a sit-down, twenty-minute conversation with Sue. Putting the keys in the ignition he didn't even curse when the car didn't start right away. He mindlessly turned the key again and again as he replayed Sue's words fervently trying to commit them to memory. When his car finally started he wasn't sure, he didn't remember sort of like how he didn't remember the drive back to Emma's apartment.

* * *

Emma was laughing light-heartedly to one of her favorite sitcoms when Will walked in the door. He smiled at the sight it had been so long since she had sat down and watched something and allowed herself to relax. How I Met Your Mother was now officially one of his favorite shows. Joining her on the couch Will could feel his heart grow lighter as he too found himself laughing at the antics of Barney.

It was five in the evening when the show had ended and seeing as that was the time Emma usually ate he decided to keep that small routine intact. Having three of her routines switched up in one day sounded a lot like pressing his luck.

He didn't say anything as she fixed her oatmeal and he didn't offer blueberries this time either. If she wanted them she could get them they were still in the fridge exactly where he had put them this morning. Waiting for his hot pocket to fully cook he remembered the movie he had gotten after school. It had taken him a while to figure out which one to rent, he had wanted something that in a way mirrored what Emma was going through, something that showed another person and how they dealt with a mind that did nothing but betray them. A Beautiful Mind seemed the perfect choice and he was secretly pleased when Emma said she hadn't seen it.

"Where were you Em? Under a rock, this is a classic." He had teased although he was very grateful she hadn't seen it. Whatever rock she had been under garnered a silent thanks from him.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The soundtrack was intoxicating, mysterious and alluring all at once. It had sucked her in from the very beginning, its crescendos only adding to the intensity as she settled down beside Will to watch a movie she knew absolutely nothing about. Will had stubbornly moved his hand out of her reach every time she had tried to grab the case effectively thwarting any successive attempts after he had placed it snugly between him and the side of the couch.

She was enveloped in the character of John Nash almost immediately. What would it be like to be that intelligent? To see things that no one would else did like how the sunlight could reflect off a glass to mirror the images on someone's tie. She agreed that there had to be a mathematical equation for how bad the tie was.

His roommate Charlie was by far her favorite character. She loved how he worked so hard to pull John out of his shell never once losing that boyish demeanor that reminded her so much of the man sitting beside her.

When Jennifer Connelly had entered the picture she had been delighted. The Labyrinth was a hidden favorite of hers. She had watched it as a kid and could only remember bits and pieces never able to actually recall what the movie was. It wasn't until she met the girl who was to be her best friend through high school in a seventh grade band rehearsal that she learned the name. Their instructor had decided to give them a break and Labyrinth was the movie he had chose to throw in. Emma had listened half-heartedly as her friend spewed details about almost everything in David Bowie's life. She would never admit it but it was her friend's forcefulness to subject her to some of his albums that was the reason behind the few songs of his she had on her ipod. She still laughed when she thought about the incredulous look on Will's face when he had run across them.

Little things, she noticed, weren't adding up. People were beginning to stare at Nash in a peculiar manner as he talked excitedly with Charlie or his niece. She was intrigued by the government work he had been hired to do but she did think it odd that his job consisted of circling words in magazines.

It wasn't until John had thought "big brother" was out to get him during his lecture that she began to realize what was going on. He had run out of the room absolutely terrified screaming and kicking as he was forced to the ground as the men in black suits were revealed to be medical personnel.

The expression on her face as she looked through his wife's eyes at the classified "work" he had been undertaking was one of pure disbelief. The scene where Jennifer Connelly had driven to the warehouse only to reveal that it was abandoned and that all of his letters will still in the mailbox was heart breaking.

It was the psychiatrist's words as they watched John undergo electo-convulsive shock therapy that really got to her.

"A common symptom of paranoid schizophrenia is not knowing what's true from what's not. Imagine if the all the people, places and moments in your life most important to you were not gone, not dead but worse, that they had never been. What kind of hell would that be?"

Emma replayed those words so many times that she had stopped counting each time emphasizing the last sentence.

"What are you thinking about?" Will questioned softly turning to look at her.

Emma continued to stare straight ahead not focusing on anything.

"I'm comparing his hell to mine and realizing that his would be infinitely worse."

* * *

**Will's POV**

He sat silently as he thought about her words. That line had always affected him as well but he had never thought about it in the way she was right now. He hadn't ever experienced the sort of mental hell John Nash was experiencing. To him the words were just powerful, intense.

Will hadn't been expecting Emma to inhale sharply at the scene when the baby had almost drown because Nash had left him in the tub. He asked her again what was going through her mind. The answer she supplied had left him momentarily speechless.

"That's why I'm afraid to have kids. I'm afraid I'm too crazy, that somehow I will hurt them. Hurt them without realizing it just like he did."

Pulling her close Will assured her that she was not too crazy to have children, that she would be an excellent mother. He didn't sugar-coat the topic he told her it would be difficult that there would be many hurdles for her to overcome but that he would be there every step of the way.

Emma had nuzzled against him murmuring into his chest just how much she loved him.

Her tears caused Will to shed his own when at the end of the movie she had softly said, "Look at what he accomplished Will. Look at what he did, look at all that he did when the world had written him off as crazy."

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma couldn't stop thinking about the movie they had watched last night. It was the underlying message that someone could overcome insurmountable odds that had allowed her to accept the banana Will had offered to slice into her oatmeal even though the voice was babbling on about 100 extra calories. She was grateful that he wasn't trying to force her into three course meals right away. He was moving things slow but setting his own pace instead of giving her the reigns. Emma knew her pace would be that of a snail if he left it up to her. She was too scared to take matters into her hands but having Will be the one to prompt her, to encourage her, that she could handle. That she could do.

That day at lunch Will had walked in again with a sandwich this one just as the other cut into two equal portions but instead of ham and cheese she could see the peanut butter and jelly that had squeezed out from between the slices of bread. There was a time, she was sure, when she had loved peanut butter and jelly when it had been her usual choice for lunch. She hadn't had peanut butter in a long time. She didn't even keep it in the house anymore. It represented too much of a threat. During one of the few times she had binged she had finished off an entire small jar of the stuff and vowed to never do it again once she looked at how unrealistically high the calorie count was for one measly tablespoon. She had yet to touch peanut butter again and here it was staring her in the face, daring her to take a bite while the voice carried on its usual tirade of condescending remarks.

She had nibbled her way through half of the sandwich trying to feel accomplished but succumbing to the shame that washed through her instead. Will had noticed and had once again offered words of comfort and although they didn't block out the voice as much as they had the other day it still became a little more distant.

Sue had yet to glare at her today in fact she hadn't seen Sue all day. _Probably because she is too repulsed to look at you. _Emma was still afraid of the woman most of her fear stemming from prior experiences. Sue had always been mean to her, mocking her rituals and perpetually looking down her nose at the woman who wasn't even strong enough to resist the urge to clean the doorknob to her office three times before entering. She always felt intimidated by Sue, her withering glares and snide comments making her feel like the proverbial ant under the microscope in the hands of the school bully. She never could stand up to her and she probably never would but she had Will and for whatever reason that was enough. Even though the two concepts were entirely unrelated that was enough.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will wasn't nervous this time as he waited for Sue to stroll into her office. This was their second talk and he had actually scribbled down a list of things he wanted to ask determined to make good use of the little time they had.

Sue still held her trademark smirk as she entered the room but just like before it was soon replaced with a smile that Will was still getting used to.

"How do I know when to stop pushing her? How do I know when to back off?"

"As I said last time, just watch her. If she appears to be getting nervous and you undoubtedly know those signals better than I do, then maybe tone it down a little."

"What is her safe food," Sue asked bringing one hand up to provide support for her chin.

"Oatmeal."

"Anything else," she prompted.

"Hot chocolate."

"I said food William, that's not a food. That's a testament to the Lima, Ohio public educational system right there," she had good-naturedly remarked.

Will sighed ignoring her remark, "Okay then, we are back to oatmeal."

Sue sat silent for a while with a look that told Will she was remembering something from her past.

"Mine was frozen yogurt, to this day I don't like the stuff. It drudges up too many painful memories."

Will had barely heard the words Sue had uttered but when his mind did extract a meaning he couldn't help but feel sorry for the woman. He wondered if that would happen to Emma, if she would forever not be able to eat the one thing that she had coasted on for so long. If he really thought about it, it made sense. The only comparison he could draw was to songs that he had heard or listened too after a particularly bad event in his life. There were still songs that he immediately turned off if they came across the radio because they reminded of a time with Terri when he thought he had the world at his feet. Then there was the song that for a reason he wasn't even sure of had come to represent his failure to get out of Lima, to perform on Broadway. _Failure. _It was that moment when Will realized that maybe he did have the capability to understand where Emma was coming from, at least from one angle. He wasn't afraid of failing at every little thing he undertook like she was but the fear of failure was what had kept him in Lima.

"Are you afraid of failure Sue?"

"Every minute of every day." And if that information makes it anywhere outside of this office I will skewer you.

Thanking Sue again he made his way through the snow to his car. He hadn't checked the forecast this morning but he had heard murmurs around him that it was supposed to be sunny. _When are they going to learn to not even bother with the stupid forecast?_

His car started on the first try and bemusedly he recalled a time when Emma had explained that his car had him operating on a variable schedule of reinforcement. A schedule that kept him trying over and over often with more intensity each time even though it did no good because he never knew when his car was actually going to obey him. _Good car._

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma sat at the kitchen table desperately trying to ignore the argument the voice was attempting to engage her in. She was losing.

You ate peanut butter. Don't you remember what happened the last time you ate peanut butter? That processed crap that has as much calories as a bowl of oatmeal in just one tablespoon. You're even more of a failure than you were yesterday. One hundred extra calories with your oatmeal, god knows how many tablespoons Will used to make that sandwich, oh and don't forget the jelly, ten calories per tablespoon there and for all you he could have used four. Know what that translates into don't you? Forty calories. Why are you becoming so weak, allowing him to manipulate you, to make you fat? Why aren't you fighting back? Do you want to be fat? Do you want to be nothing more than a weak bitch? Enjoy it enjoy what you are doing to yourself. Bask in your failure.

Hot tears began to roll down her cheeks as she dropped her head to the table covering her face with her arms short gasps of air punctuating the silence as she just sat there bringing her knees up to her chest as she gave in to what she had been trying to ignore all day.

* * *

**Will's POV**

He was in a fairly decent mood considering everything. He was proud of Emma. He hadn't really allowed himself to entertain the idea that she would eat half of the PB&J sandwich. He knew how much she had grown to hate the stuff after she had consumed an entire jar in a fit of uncontrollable emotion.

Opening the door his ears were met with the soft sounds of what was clearly emotional distress. Not bothering to take his shoes off he searched for the source of her small whimpers. He stood for a while simply taking in the scene before him. Emma was sitting at the table, her knees tucked tightly against her chest as her head lay in her arms her shoulders shaking with each sob. He felt horrible. He didn't know how to makeher pain go away and he couldn't get the idea out of his mind that he was the cause of this. That he had pushed her too far.

Walking up behind her he placed his hands on hers leaning down so that his mouth was pressed against her ear.

"Hey, c'mon, c'mere. Let's move somewhere more comfortable okay."

Her strangled response of, "I don't deserve to be somewhere comfortable," didn't really come as a shock. He didn't know anyone who was as hard on themselves as Emma was.

Dragging a chair up next to hers he sat down facing her as he wrapped his arms around her still boney shoulders pulling her with him as he leaned back against his chair. She cried for over an hour never once voicing what was going through her mind. She didn't have to. It didn't take much to assume that it was the narrator in her head causing her break down. The narrator that he hated with such a passion it could have been a real person. He wanted nothing more than to take it away from her, to make it stop hurting her. He didn't know how to do any of those things. He made a quick a mental note to ask Sue if she had her own condescending voice and if she did how she had learned to work past it, how she had learned to push through even though it tried to cut her down at every turn.

Rubbing one hand in soothing circles across her back he rested his chin in her hair.

"Ignore it Emma. Whatever its saying just ignore it."

* * *

Were you surprised?


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Hello all I wasn't intended to spend (frickin' hours) writing another chapter but this one came to this morning. I promise that if you make your way through the angst there is a tasty little reward! Sorry if some of their thoughts are not in italics there was something wonky going on and I refuse to admit it was operator error!

**Will's POV**

Will continued to hold Emma engaging in what he knew to be a fruitless endeavor to calm her down. He never expected what happened next.

"I can't ignore it Will!" Emma violently tore her body away from him moving to distance herself by a few feet.

"I can't ignore it. It's in my head. It won't leave me alone. It never shuts up and every day, _every day_ I eat something unsafe it only gets worse." She screamed.

By this time Emma had backed herself against the wall glaring at him as she continued, "Tell me how the hell I'm supposed to ignore it, Will. Tell me!" she laughed bitterly and Will couldn't even begin to describe the expression held in her eyes.

"You don't know. We both know that you don't know. You're just as helpless as I am." Emma snarled fixing her gaze directly on his startled one.

Will sat in silence afraid to move and worse unable to provide an answer. He wanted desperately to approach her but past experience had taught him that perhaps remaining still was the best thing he could do right now.

"I have to get it out," Emma hissed to herself.

He felt his entire body tense as he remembered the events that had followed the last time she had said those words. He watched still rooted to his chair as Emma grabbed a trash bag. If he concentrated he could catch the words, "worthless" "fat" and "threat" when he wasn't caught up in trying to figure out what she was about to do.

She wrenched open a cupboard pushing her hand all the way back and Will's mouth fell open slightly when she slid all of the contents into the bag some of the cans landing on the counter only to be snatched up and added to the rest. She methodically repeated her actions with every cupboard only stopping when she got to the oatmeal. Will was fairly certain he had heard her mumble something about safe. He wished he knew what to do that he wasn't frozen in a combination of confusion and worry.

Eventually locating the ability to move he stood up but he still couldn't force his legs to take him towards her.

"Emma, sweetie-"he began only to have a withering glare shot his way. _I've never seen her look like that. God I don't know what to do._

Emma tied off the now bulging bag that was threatening to burst open at any moment and slowly began to drag it towards the door after she had made a few unsuccessful attempts to carry it.

_I can't let her get to the door. _That thought is what finally knocked some sense into him as he began to run, flying past her and pressing his back against the door his stance wide to better his balance. He had gotten there mere seconds before she had. She was breathing hard her hair plastered to her face from the sweat that covered skin, her eyes once again holding that wild expression he had grown to hate so much.

"Get out of my," Emma snarled.

"No."

"Will, move!" she screamed as she dropped the bag to attempt to push him out of the way. Will held his ground knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to even get him to budge from his current location. A gust of air shot sharply from between his lips in an unexpected hiss as Emma began pounding her fists against his chest. Just like the night in the bathroom he didn't move to stop her, he didn't want her to feel threatened by a show of force.

He watched wearily as Emma took a step backwards, her eyes ablaze with a mixture of rage, determination and a glossiness that indicated that she wasn't really aware of what she was doing her mind fixated on nothing more than the goal she had at hand.

He was completely unprepared when her hand cracked against his jaw. Will dropped his head exhaling through the pain fully expecting another blow as he dared to look up at her.

Emma had frozen.

"Oh my god, what did I just do, oh my god."

Even if his eyes had been closed he would have known that she was going to bolt as it was the upper half of her body was already starting to turn away from him. Before her legs could follow suit he latched his hands around her waist determined that he was not going to let her run to the bedroom like this. Not when the door had a lock on it and he didn't have a master key.

"Let me go, let me go. Let me go before I hurt you again. Please Will," the last had come out as more of a meek plea than the confident timbre that had been behind her voice a few words earlier.

"No, Emma. I'm not going to let you go. Not when you are like this." He watched as her head dipped down from the embarrassment of the situation.

"I'm not mad Em, I know you didn't mean it. I know you weren't aware of what you were doing. I could see it in your eyes. I'm not mad," he repeated hoping his voice sounded as calming as he intended it to.

Will looked down and for the first time noticed that Emma's hand was hanging limp at her side and she was making no attempt to move it. Gently he reached down and barely lifted it an inch stopping instantly at her small whimper of pain.

"Geez, Em. We need to get you to a hospital. Your hand is broken."

He felt Emma go rigid against him again the panic evident in her voice as she spoke, "No, No, No. They will admit me Will. No I'm not going. They will admit me. I know they will."

Sighing heavily Will realized he was going to have to divulge the information he had really wanted remain a secret. He tightened his hold on her slightly as he began to speak, "No sweetie, believe me they won't. Your weight while dangerously low is not considered life-threatening by their standards. They only admit cases where the people are in immediate need of medical intervention." Will hoped for the best and got the worst.

"You called them," Emma growled her tone dripping with incredulous anger.

This time drawing in a breath before responding he dug his grave deeper, "Yes Em I called them."

Emma wouldn't look him in the eye stubbornly staring at the floor as she demanded to know why. Why he would betray her by doing such a thing. Why after he had been so caring and supportive he would go behind her back.

"Because I didn't know what else to do sweetie."

"You were going to have me admitted," Emma whispered her chest deflating with the words.

Will hesitated as his mind even in the seriousness of the situation quipped that he should pick out a grave marker. With a confidence he didn't feel he dropped his eyes to the ground fixating on the same spot Emma's eyes held captive, "Only if they had told me it was necessary."

"What if they had," Emma ground out.

Deciding this answer was one to be avoided he attempted to change the subject telling Emma that they really did need to get going so her hand could be set properly. Emma hadn't let him off that easy and Will didn't know exactly what had made him think she would. She repeated her question this time with a tone so dark that he was certain it must have shocked her too.

"Then I would have listened."

* * *

**Emma's POV**

She could feel herself descending to that place where the voice took over her body, refusing to give her control again until she had accomplished what it had convinced her she had to do. Ripping a trash bag from the small box on top of the fridge she whirled around so that she was facing a cupboard. Her hands of their own accord opening the door with so much force she was surprised she hadn't tore it off the hinges. She watched as her arm came forward to slide the food items into the waiting white plastic bag and felt an almost unreal surge of anger when some of the items hit the counter instead. To her it seemed as if food were betraying her yet again and she resisted the urge to hurtle the cans at the wall as she slammed them into the bag. Working her way through every cupboard she grinded to a halt when her eyes landed upon her one safe heaven, her can of oatmeal. She couldn't throw that away. She wasn't going to destroy the one consumable item she upheld as safe.

Somewhere along the way Will had finally stood up. She had silently chided him in her head when he had seemed unable to move transfixed by her actions. _Look at the power you have over him. See, he's not as strong as you think he is. He's weak, just like you. Aww don't you two make the perfect couple._

Tying of the bag she groaned as she tried again and again to pick it up growling when she couldn't even get it off the floor. _Well then, option two. _At a painfully slow pace she drug the dangerously full bag across the floor cursing when she hit the carpet in the living room because it only made her job that much harder.

She didn't notice when Will rushed past her but she definitely did notice that he was standing directly in her path. Directly in front of the threshold that was going to lead her to the salvation of the dumpster at the end of the drive.

She screamed at him making frustratingly ineffective efforts to push him out of the way. Dropping the bag she began to pound her fists against his chest hoping that the pain and shock would cause him to side-step and give her the advantage she needed. All she had elicited from him was a hiss of pain. _Punch him. He won't be expecting that. Do it. Prove you aren't as weak as I think you are. _

Emma paused as she took a step backwards both at the order of the voice and a feeble attempt to distance herself from an action that the part of her that was locked away was screaming at her not to go through with. She watched as her hand collided with his jaw causing him to drop his head and she could tell by the expression in his eyes that when he raised it back up he was fully expecting her to hit him again.

It was that expression that brought her back to reality. Her world came crashing down as she replayed what she had just done unable to stop the silent film that contained her worst nightmare. A nightmare she didn't even know she had. _I punched him, oh my god I have to get away. I can't hurt him again. I'm a monster. Dangerous. Crazy._

Preparing to bolt a destination already in mind seeing as the bedroom was the only room with a lock and she knew Will would never be able to find the master key or the one to the bedroom for that matter. When she felt Will's arms snake around her waist she ordered him to let her go and when that tact didn't work she pleaded. She really was afraid she was going to hit him again but she was more determined to get to the bedroom, to lock herself away from the world as she entertained the gruesome reality she had brought upon herself.

Her hand hurt. Tentatively she tried to flex it only to be met with a sharp, intense pain that thwarted any more efforts on her part. That didn't stop Will though and she whimpered as another twinge of pain shot through her. He mentioned something about her hand being broken but she hadn't registered that part. The word hospital had completely blocked out everything to the point that if someone would have asked her where she was she wouldn't have been able to tell them.

Again she found herself pleading with Will to not take her to the hospital stammering that she was going to be admitted that she _knew_ she was going to be admitted. Her anger had started to subside until Will had assured her that they would not admit her with far too many details than he should have possessed.

He had called them.

For the second time Emma felt her world crumble when he confirmed her suspicion. Why would he do such a thing? After everything he had done, after he had repeatedly gone out of the way to be kind and gentle, so unbelievable supportive. How could he betray her like that? She tried to accept his answer to look at things from his viewpoint but the voice prevented any such attempts.

_It wasn't because he didn't know what to do. He wanted to get rid of you, to have someone else put up with your shit for a while because he has had enough. He doesn't want you anymore. He never did really. He's only stuck around for as long as he has because he would have felt too guilty if he left you. He was going to have you admitted._

Emma listened as her voice parroted the one in her head.

"You were going to have me admitted."

She was hoping that his answer would be a flat out no. That he would say that he had never even considered such a maneuver but when he had hesitantly told her that he would have the "only if they had told me it was necessary" part did nothing for her rage. She had to know why.

The first time she asked he not so subtly dodged her question attempting to steer the conversation to some bullshit about needing to get her to the hospital because of her hand. When she had refused to allow him to do that, when she had repeated her question with a tone even she didn't know she was capable of producing he finally responded.

_See he was planning on admitting you. He called because he was certain that they would take you off his hands. Imagine his disappointment when they wouldn't. That would be maddening wouldn't it wanting to get rid of the thing that was consuming your life only to be shot down in the name of rules and regulations. He probably still can barely contain his rage at such a turn of events. I don't know why he hasn't left you yet, certainly that would be easier than dropping you off at some crazy house. _

Still lost in thoughts tinged with the voice's cynicism she had allowed Will to take her to the car. She could see the hospital looming in front of them only becoming more intimidating the closer it got. _I don't care if my hand is mangled for the rest of my life. I don't want to be here. The doctors are going to see how crazy I am. They will take me away from him._

_He doesn't want you anyways remember._

Emma maintained a death grip on Will's hand as they entered the double doors that led to the ER listening half-heartedly as Will explained the situation before the woman behind the counter told them to take a seat. Will completed the paper work for her occasionally interrupting her little mental aside to ask her questions about things like her social security number.

By the time her name was called Emma had been able to calm herself down a bit and she grabbed Will's hand as she got up pulling him behind her because she was not going to back there alone.

Neither spoke as they sat in the cramped room waiting for the doctor. Vaguely Emma wondered why a nurse hadn't come in first but it had been quite a while since her last ER visit so maybe the process had changed.

Emma gripped Will's hand tighter when a man who was obviously a doctor strode into the room briefly glancing over her charts. Taking a seat in a stool he rolled up in front of Emma looking her up and down before gingerly probing her hand. Somewhere during all of this Will had managed to peel her hand off of his. She could see the white mark clearly in the form of a handprint on his skin as he rubbed at it slightly.

Everything was going okay. So far the doctor had ordered an x-ray and although Emma was terrified when she learned that Will couldn't accompany her the process was over and done with seemingly before it had even begun.

Back in the room the man began setting her hand a cast. Emma glared down at it. Why did it have to be her right hand, not only could she not use her hand but the cast felt hideous and it didn't look much better. She was about to jump off the table when a gentle voice that was not Will's worked its way into her ears.

"Emma, do you mind if I get your weight?" she had listened distantly as he had mentioned something about it being standard procedure. _Standard procedure my ass. Standard procedure was the nurse weighing you before you even went back into the room._

Throwing a panicked glance at Will his face silently told her that there was nothing that he could do and that it would be okay.

Determined to not show her reluctance at the doctor's request she quickly jumped down from the exam table and forced legs to take even, confident strides towards the object as she so desperately wanted her body to move in any direction other than one it was taking.

Placing first one sock-covered foot and then the other on the small platform she closed her eyes when she started to hear the distinctive sounds of the level inching towards her fate. She wasn't sure why the doctor wasn't saying anything but she definitely was not going to chance a glance to find out.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Hunched over a piece of paper with lines so incredibly short it was next to impossible to even fill in a name he found a new reason to detest trips to the ER. The last time he had been in an emergency room was when he had been seven and he had broken his arm trying to learn a new dance move. At the time he didn't understand why his mom looked so frustrated about having to write on simple pieces of paper. He most assuredly understood now.

He wasn't surprised when Emma had moved to grab his hand when her name was called. Even though he hadn't actively thought about it he knew she wouldn't want to go back alone. That was probably the reason behind why he hadn't actively thought about it. _Or it could have been the damn paperwork._

Will was slightly annoyed at how long the nurse was taking to come in. His annoyance was replaced with unvoiced confusion when a man in a white coat walked in instead. Emma's hand squeezed around his even harder and he had to fight off a small hiss. _She can have an incredibly tight grip when she's scared. Holy crap._

The doctor gently looked her hand over before proclaiming that he wanted an x-ray. Will had offered a comforting smile when Emma had shot a terrified glance in his direction when she was told he couldn't go with her.

"I won't go anywhere. I promise."

He knew from experience that x-rays didn't take long so he knew Emma really wouldn't even have time to concentrate on her fear and sure enough in mere minutes they were walking back in the room the doctor motioning for Emma to hop back up on the table so he could wrap her hand in a cast. _That's going to be annoying as hell._

Will was beginning to think that their little impromptu visit was over when the doctor had gently, _too gently_, asked Emma if he could get her weight. Will contained his sigh of relief upon hearing those words. It wasn't that he wanted to put Emma through what was certain to be an almost traumatic experience but more in line with the kind of relief that they would at least have her current weight on record.

Emma walked towards the scale with more bravado then he would have had if he had been in her shoes, planting her feet firmly on the platform as though she were not worried in the least which he knew was absolutely not true. Even though her back was turned to him he could tell by the way her head ducked down towards her chest that she was keeping her eyes closed.

Will couldn't read the numbers from where he was sitting but he had a vague idea where the 100 mark was and the scale had leveled significantly below that. The doctor didn't say anything scribbling the result down on her chart before turning to look at Will with a gaze that was ready to turn accusatory at any moment if Will so much as hinted that he hadn't known about her weight.

Grateful that he had perfected the art of stage-whispering he over mouthed the words, "I know. We are working on it."

The doctor nodded once before his features settled into what Will could tell was obviously a "You better be telling the truth mister," stare.

Telling Emma she could step down he never said her weight out loud and Will was okay with that. Although he was fairly certain her upped intake was not enough to make her really gain anything it was a start towards an intake that would.

The doctor told Emma that she would have to come back in a few weeks to have the cast removed which Will knew to be an outright lie. He had been allowed to remove his own cast. Standing up to usher Emma out of the room it dawned on him why the man had done what he did.

_He's testing me, to see if her weight improves. Great._

_

* * *

_Back home they bustled about to get dressed for school. Will had called in and said they were going to be late, this time able to give the real reason but assuring that they would be there. It was one in the afternoon and Will wasn't really all that disgusted that he missed his first two clusters of Spanish students. The students always looked like they had been the victims of a frontal lobe lobotomy in the mornings.

He had successfully managed to weasel his way out of riding with Emma in her car saying that his had been making strange noises the last time he had drove it and he wanted to see if it still was. Emma had only snorted and became the thousandth person who had informed him that he really needed a new car.

His afternoon classes went by without any major complications. Opting out of actually teaching anything new he had simply assigned a few pages out of their workbook on what they had covered the day before. The only issue and truthfully it really wasn't an issue just frustration on his and his students' part had came in the form of a girl who just could not wrap her head around how to conjugate the verb they were working on. He had tried so many methods that he had lost track and not one seemed to be working. It was finally a student sitting next to the girl who had gotten her to understand. _Well great, now I just feel useless._

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Recovered from the shock of having her weight taken in the ER of all places and the subsequent annoyance when Will told her he had been sitting too far away to get an accurate reading she was finally starting to feel a bit like her normal self. As normal as she could feel when her hand felt three times bigger than it was supposed to be.

A couple students had meandered in inquiring politely about her hand before deluging her with their latest teenage drama. One girl was convinced that another girl (who she maintained was the bane of her existence) had started a rumor about her having slept with nearly every guy on the football team. Emma had avoided the impulse to roll her eyes. If only they knew how truly insignificant this would all be once they got out into the real world. She had stopped trying to use that logic on students long ago when blank stare after blank stare had been her only response. Consoling the girl as best she could she was more than relieved when the bell rang. Saved by the bell anyone?

The next had been a young man who was embarrassed about how scrawny he was compared to the other boys. He seemed especially fixated on the members of any sports affiliated team. Emma did feel some empathy for this kid she had suffered through that but for reasons more related to her chest than to muscles. By the time he had left he wasn't secure about his body image but he wasn't all together insecure either. That will last until he sees a jock walking down the hallway.

It was lunchtime. More accurately it was the Will-imposed lunchtime during their mutual free period at three o'clock. Emma had been secretly hoping he wouldn't bother because they had missed the actual time. She could have voiced her opinion to the whole school and still gotten the same results.

Will marched in with two baggies in his left hand, a smile on his face as he leaned down to peck her on the nose.

Emma watched as he placed two sandwiches on her desk once again cut in halves but this time they were whole sandwiches. The voice was screaming at her to run.

"You don't have to eat the whole thing, it's just that I need more than half a sandwich and I didn't want to steal yours." He had said with a chuckle

_I wouldn't have minded Will. Really I wouldn't._

_

* * *

_**Will's POV**

Two sandwiches today, thank God he had had the foresight to pack them the night before otherwise he would have had nothing for Emma to eat which was something the book he was reading strongly advocated against saying the person might feel hungry as their body had been slowly growing accustomed to more food but instead of going and getting something to eat they would panic and then fall back into liking the feeling.

She once again was staring at the food as if it was going to sprout legs and crawl over to her. Her hands hadn't moved this time as they had the last couple times. _Probably because of the extra food. _

He reached out opening one bag and setting one half in front of her with what he hoped was a charming smile. He encouraged her again making sure to go as far as being the one to take the first bite. That action seemed to have been what prompted her to nibble in to her half. Slowly they made their way through their respective halves and Will returned his hand to his bag extracting the second one silently trying to tell Emma that it really was okay if she did the same.

The voice was about to get to her. He needed to say something.

"Em, hun, it's okay. It's no different than the half you just ate. That half didn't hurt you, neither will this one. I won't let it,' he quipped.

Resisting the urge to let loose the breath he hadn't known he had been holding in one giant whoosh he slowly exhaled before taking a bite.

Emma once again tore her half into small pieces and Will wondered why she hadn't done so with the first half. _Maybe because that amount had become safe but this new amount is still unsafe?_

Will was confused at first when Emma suddenly grabbed the napkin her partially torn sandwich was sitting on and shoved it out of sight under her desk. Looking at her curiously he followed her gaze that was following a student who was passing by looking in to wave enthusiastically at both of them. Will waved back while Emma remained frozen. It was about five minutes before she carefully set the napkin back on the desk. Will wasn't going to say anything he knew she felt guilty if anyone other than him caught her eating almost like it would prove to the person how weak she was. He hoped that one day she would get over that but for now it wasn't really that big of a deal to him.

Bit by bit which Will again matched she had managed to make her way half way through the section that lay in pieces by her hands. He could tell by the expression on her face that she absolutely could not force herself to eat anymore. She can't get herself to eat the entire half because than she would have to admit that she had eaten an entire sandwich.

That knowledge was not his own it was something he had read. A passage about how anorexics when in the beginning stages of recovery were often not able to finish an entire complete food product because later on when they inevitably recounted what they had eaten the knowledge that they had consumed a regular sized serving would make them shy away from eating as much the next day.

She looked everywhere but at him the now well-established body language he knew to mean she was embarrassed.

"It's okay, you don't have to eat the whole thing. To tell you the truth I'm getting full too. You did great sweetie." he purred across the desk telling himself that he would finish the remaining bites of his sandwich when he was safely out of her sight. On a whim he asked if she wanted him to leave what she had left with her in case she got hungry. Her reaction of shoving the sandwich towards him was definitely a no.

* * *

Will had snuck out of Emma's office in a hurry to inform Sue that he would not be able to meet her. Glee wasn't rehearsing today and his excuse for staying late was effectively squandered. Aside from that he wasn't really sure he wanted Emma returning to the apartment alone. The trash bag she had dropped to the ground during her fit was still sitting by the door.

He followed her back adding to his mental list of things to do that he needed to tell her that his car was still making funny noises so he could get away with driving it in the morning. This charade wasn't going to work forever. He was going to need a better excuse pretty soon.

He didn't have to worry about Emma walking into the apartment first. He had completely forgotten that in all the haste this morning Emma had neglected to grab her key. For once he was happy that she had an odd quirk about not having more than key on a key ring at a time. He had told her many times how completely inconvenient that was even going as far as to call it illogical but she hadn't budged. He wondered if this would get her to put her house key on the same ring as her car key. In a way he hoped it did because it would save him a lot of hassle if this happened in the future but for today he was glad that things were as they were, glad that Emma was the way she was.

Unlocking the door and giving into the urge to chide her about her self-imposed predicament he remained calm when his eyes took in the scene around him. Apparently all the uproar had caused more of a commotion then he thought it had. Suddenly he wished he could close the door before Emma walked in. The way the apartment looked was definitely not going to work in favor of keeping her calm.

Not only was the trash bag resting where it had come to fall but a potted plant had been overturned and the way dirt is prone to do had spread out across the carpet further than Will really thought it should have. He noted that it was probably him who had done that as he had run for the door. Looking closer he could see a red line that started in the kitchen only to end by the bag at his feet. Wonderful.

Resigning himself to his fate he stepped aside to let Emma in. He really wanted to close his eyes so he didn't have to watch her reaction. She stood completely still her cast-covered hand raised up to rest against her mouth in horror at the mess around her. He could only imagine what this would be like for someone so obsessively preoccupied with keeping things neat and tidy.

Will's attempt to lighten the mood by making a joke about a tornado in Ohio fell flat when she had noticed the red line he had noticed minutes earlier. That did it. Her breathing began to quicken as her face became flushed. Will was instantly whispering to her that it was fine, that he would help clean it up, that he would clean it all up himself if she wanted him to. His words had no effect so he decided to try something different, something crazy, something that could have dastardly consequences if it didn't work but some fairly nice ones if it did.

Leaning down he kissed the nape of Emma's neck slowly before replacing the action with a gentle nip. Emma had stopped breathing all together now and Will considered that (possibly) to be a good thing, it at least meant she wasn't going to hyperventilate, she might faint but at least she wouldn't hyperventilate.

Grabbing her by her shoulders he spun her around so that his body was blocking her view of the physical manifestation of everything that was so out of place in her life. He took a couple steps forward gently pressing her against the door before crashing his lips against hers his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, not giving her a choice in the matter. She wasn't resisting in fact her hands had come up to rest around his neck as she kissed him back just as hard. Bringing his hands up he unbuttoned her coat and let it fall to the floor before unfastening the first couple buttons on her shirt exposing her collar bone and part of her chest. He brought his teeth down against her nipping gently not wanting to scare her. When her only response had been "please harder" Will could have swore that every remaining drop of his blood had turned tale in a southern direction. He sank his teeth into her again still holding back slightly her loud moan causing him to push his hands under her shirt to run them across the sides of her torso as he moved to place sloppy kisses up the side of her neck. A guttural groan that originated somewhere deep within him erupted in to the air when she bucked her hips against his. Not to be outdone he pushed back delighting in the thud her rear made as it reconnected with the door. This was definitely not the Emma he would have expected in these situations. He had been expecting a meek, nervous, almost painfully gentle woman not a woman who seemingly liked it rough. He knew she would still be nervous the first time they went all the way but he was certainly looking forward to any ensuing activities given the forwardness she was showing now. It had completely escaped his mind that his entire reason behind this had been to distract her from the mess. He almost laughed when he thought about his brief hesitation trying to decide if it would only make things worse. _Definitely not making things worse._

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma couldn't move there was a mess everywhere she looked. What was she going to do? This was not acceptable not only was the trash bag there to remind her of the hellish events of that morning but there was dirt and…the bag must have leaked. She felt her breathing quicken as she stared at the red line that was proving to be her undoing.

She was vaguely aware of Will's lips brushing against her neck and she was about ready to push him off in annoyance when he had softly nipped. _Oh god._

Before she knew what was happening her body was pressed up against the door held firmly in place by a Will that seemed intent on kissing her senseless. She put up no resistance when his tongue forced its way into her mouth as she brought her hands up to place them around his neck surprised that the movement did not cause any serious pain in her broken hand. She felt a wave of excitement when his hands had made fast work of her coat letting it fall to the ground before opening the first couple buttons on her shirt. He nipped her again gently. Too gently. Almost afraid of her request (she didn't want to scare him away) she asked him to bite harder. Her fears were forgotten when his teeth had connecting harshly with her skin causing her produce a moan so loud it surprised even her. It definitely seemed to turn him on though. His hands were under her shirt in seconds blazing a trail up her torso as his mouth mimicked the action along her neck. Wanting to elicit the same sound from him that he had from her she roughly bucked her hips against him smiling to herself. _Mission: Accomplished._ He had accepted her challenge and pushed into her with slightly more force than she had used. The sound she made as she fell against the door again did nothing to quell her arousal. Will has me pressed against a door, kissing me, touching me…She became lost in the sensations she was experiencing the mess around her completely forgotten.

* * *

See told ya there was a reward!

Oh and if anyone is thinking of commenting on how unrealistic the doctor's actions were…tough. I didn't want her to be admitted. I'm too attached to caring Will:)


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Real life needs to learn to butt out once in a while:)

Again sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors. Every time I started to go over it real life decided I should have other plans.

**Emma's POV**

Emma grinned as she drove the familiar path to McKinney high. Will had managed to successfully distract her for fifteen minutes until the outside world had forced its way into the one Will had created for her. It had taken them two hours to clean everything up which was about three hours less than Emma would have normally used. Smiling again she thought about how Will had worked to keep everything light-hearted. He had ran past her numerous times only smirking with feigned innocence maintaining that he had absolutely no clue as to why his hand kept ending all but inside the back pocket of her jeans. When she had sat down with stain remover in one yellow-gloved hand next to the red streak on the carpet to afraid to even be near it. Will had snuck up behind her and ran his finger through a portion. Emma had watched in horror as Will had proceeded to place said finger against his tongue. Her horror had faded into a nervous giggle when he had proclaimed with a suggestive eyebrow raise that he could definitely find much better uses for strawberry topping. _What would I do without him? He's helping me with so many things. He successfully kept my panic at bay last night and he has been so patient with getting me to eat more. _

She couldn't remember the last time she had allowed herself to think that things might turn out okay.

As Emma turned into the parking lot wrenching the steering wheel with all her might (she had learned that while driving one handed when done by choice was a cinch driving one-handed because the other was encased in a cast was decidedly frustrating) she was surprised to find that a few of the other faculty members' cars were already occupying some spots. There was a spot next to Will's car and as ridiculous as it was she wanted her car next to his.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"Ready. Set. Go!"

Both he and Emma took off towards their cars moving as fast as they could through the snow that still blanketed the ground. Will had attempted to cut across the yard and knew immediately that he would be regretting his choice the rest of the day as he traversed the halls with wet socks.

Although he had an ulterior motive behind his suggestion of "racing" to school it still sounded like fun. Will had gotten into his car first but Emma's of course had actually started on the first turn of the key which only ensured her rolling down her window to shout that he needed a new car as she had sped past.

For one of the lights they had ended up side-by-side and Will had taken the opportunity to roll down his window motioning for her to do the same as he yelled that his car was working just fine thank you very much before he had peeled off leaving Emma far behind.

It was simply sheer dumb luck when after that he hadn't hit any of the six remaining red lights while Emma had been stopped at every single one.

Looking around he was a bit perplexed to see Shannon's car. Normally she didn't come roaring in until a few minutes before first period. Will knew without a doubt that this was true because her truck really did come roaring in. How she could stand to drive that thing without a muffler was beyond him.

Stepping into the lunch room he was greeted with a few sleep-deprived voices as he made his way over to the coffee maker. Pouring himself a cup he started preparing Emma's tea. No other member of the staff drank tea so everyone knew he was doing it for her. He was still lost in the memory of cleaning with Emma when Shannon's voice had cut through the air like a whip. _She should definitely not have that much gusto in the morning._

Turning around he saw the football standing in the doorway with a huge box of Krispey Crème glazed donuts as she proudly informed the meager group that the football team had won their away game last night. Will could tell by the groans and numerous exchanges of bills that this had not been the expected outcome.

Emma's tea had finally finished allowing him to carefully make his way back to "their" table. He always sat on one side and Emma always on the other, her back always to the door. He was setting the tea in front of her seat when two glazed donuts dropped onto the napkin in front of him.

"I know Emma always sits with you so I figured I would save you the trouble of having to fend off the rest of the herd here to get her one." Shannon had said with a polite smile.

The weak smile he had offered at the gesture paled in comparison to the thanks he had managed to squeak out.

His mind was racing as he considered his options. He definitely could not eat his first. If Emma walked in and saw one donut sitting in front of her chair while Will only had a cup of coffee she would probably either freeze or bolt. Neither was really that conducive to not drawing attention. Briefly he considered fabricating an excuse about having to go get something from his office thinking that maybe he could take both telling Shannon that he was going to be meeting Emma shortly and would give it to her then. That sounded fairly plausible. _Now if only I could think of a decent sounding excuse. _

Will looked up just in time to see Emma push her way through the door and he hated the fact that her happy expression was seconds away from being replaced by one of fear. He smiled as she weaved around their coworkers to where he was seated but her eyes widened as her pace slowed before she even had a chance of noticing it.

* * *

**Sue's POV**

Sue watched in detached amusement as Will prepared Emma's tea. She would never admit it but she had always found the gesture sweet even if she did only use it as fodder against him. Nothing really eventful had taken place and she was preparing herself for another rivetingly boring day at McKinney when Bieste had barreled in gushing that the team had won their game sporting a box of donuts. _As if that box of donuts is going to get my twenty dollars back._

Her gaze followed the coach's meandering route around the room as she personally passed out one of the sweets to every coworker. Except Will, she gave two to him. Sue could tell from her perch across the room that he had no idea how to handle the unexpected problem. He had looked like he was going to stand when Emma had walked in. As Sue had assumed would happen it hadn't taken the younger woman more than two seconds to lay eyes on the inanimate intruder occupying her table. She watched as Emma sat down her back rigid and her eyes squeezed shut as if it would somehow make everything go away. _I can't watch this._

Pushing herself away from her table Sue began to stride confidently across the room making sure to come up behind Emma. She tried to catch Will's eye but he was far too concerned with the stricken counselor to notice. _Well fine. I hope you catch on quick Schuester. _

Silently taking position just behind Emma she placed her hands on the younger woman's shoulders ignoring the bone she knew she shouldn't be able to feel.

"Hey Ginger nice to have ya back, what did you get him to do with this hair this morning? It looks more revolting than it usually does. You know, considering I have to subject myself to staring at _that_, whatever the hell it is, all day long I think I deserve another one of these." Sue reached out snatching up the donut that still held Emma captive.

Will's look of annoyance when she had placed her hands on Emma had slowly turned to one of anger when she had mentioned his hair. The relief that washed over his face as she effectively found a way to remove Emma from the situation she was in eclipsed them both. Emma's eyes had still been closed and Sue merely nodded when he had mouthed that he owed her one.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Moments of confidence were far too rare in Emma's life and as she walked into the lunchroom for once she wasn't terrified that everyone was looking at her. _I can do this._

Moments of confidence also had a horrid tendency to be short-lived in Emma's life and the donut that mocked her from across the room brought that point crashing back with startling clarity. _I always speak to soon, like I really have the right to assume the world isn't conspiring against me._

_Why is that there? That shouldn't be there? Why did I think I was getting better? Why did I allow myself to feel like maybe I could accomplish something? I can't do anything. They are watching you now, watching as the resident fat guidance counselor barrels her way towards the food she clearly doesn't need. _

Will's smile, when she finally did notice it, was of no comfort. The sweet in front of her had become her entire world. In her head the voice was screaming at her to go ahead and eat up, to reinforce everyone's belief that all she did was eat and get fat, that she had no control.

Emma squeezed her eyes closed hoping that maybe when she opened them the threat that was inches away would somehow vanish. Even though she knew it wouldn't work she was quite content to watch the patterns behind her eyes and tell herself that it would.

When she felt hands on her shoulders she jumped both from surprise and fear of the owner of feeling how fat she was. When a cynical, biting tone greeted her ears Emma really didn't think the morning could get any worse. She listened as Sue made a crack about Will's hair kicking herself for never being able to stand up for him. Emma wasn't sure what Sue was referring to when she had said that she deserved another for having to stare at Will's hair all day but when she felt the air displace around her she allowed a small surge of hope to surface. _Take it Sue. Right now I don't care how condescending and heartless you are just get it away from me. Take it, please take it._

Emma opened one eye and then the other as if opening both at the same time would have influenced the results. A heavy sigh spilled from her lips when a white napkin was the only thing staring back, the small crumbs the only evidence of the danger that had resided there moments before. For the first Emma felt a surge of gratitude towards the head cheerios coach.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will was positive that the scene unraveling before him was the result of the fate's deciding that he needed to be reminded that just because he had avoided a few red lights he was not immune to things going wrong in the span of a few minutes. The fate's also seemed to have a sense of humor sending Sue who had apparently retracted her earlier pact of not commenting on his hair to harass them.

At first he was annoyed. Annoyed that of all times Sue could have made an appearance it had to be now. That annoyance had bubbled into anger as she had asked Emma what she had gotten him to do this his hair. He didn't even bother to acknowledge her quip about it looking more revolting than usual he had learned long ago to not engage in the exchange of insults he was forever on the losing end of.

He knew that the look of relief on his face when Sue accomplished in seconds the thing he was still trying to figure out how to do held all the subtlety of a neon light.

* * *

Not really concentrating on any one thing as his feet carried him down the familiar hall leading to Emma's office Will's eyes landed on the vending machine on his left. He hated the health regulations that had been imposed. That vending machine had been the source of his mid-day "congratulations for making it through the morning without poking your eye out with a pen" snickers bar. On the bright side it did contain varying flavors of milk now and he had noticed a while back with no small amount of shock that there were small cartons of soy milk as well.

Making a slight course correction he popped a few coins into the slot and like every other person who used a vending machine fired off a small prayer that it wouldn't jam. A few seconds later he was back on course for Emma's office milk in tow.

Knocking once on her door he poked his head in laughing at the scene before him. Emma was engaged in what already seemed to have been a lengthy disagreement with the filing cabinet drawer he had tried to fix so long ago. He should have been embarrassed but her small sigh of complete exasperation trumped any inner speculations on his mechanical shortcomings.

Emma turned to face him her hair slightly mussed from the mornings events no doubt mostly due to the one he had just walked in on. Will beamed at her before adopting what had become a sort of unspoken routine. He held Emma's gaze as he placed the food on her desk. It was only after that that Emma would dare to look down.

Today he had brought two tuna sandwiches determined to follow the advice he had read so many times about keeping the meals from becoming routine. The only bad thing about this was that it was forcing him to have to become more creative in the food department. Next to the sandwiches he set out a small bowl of washed strawberries before picking up the two cartons of milk he had quietly placed on the floor next to him.

He had barely moved to set the cartons on the desk when Emma's voice rang out.

"No. Not milk. Put it back Will. Put it back, put it back, oh god put it back…" her outcry was turning into more of a chant as her eyes squeezed shut again. Not knowing what other action to take he wordlessly lowered the cartons back to their original location beside his feet.

"…It's gone Em. On the floor…out of sight out of mind right?" _Phenomenal word choice. Wonderful. Verbal idiocy at its best._

It had taken far more time than it should have for Emma to even take the first bite out of her sandwich. Will tried to tell himself it wasn't that big of a deal when she didn't even make it through one half before saying she was done. When he offered the bowl of strawberries she reluctantly took only one.

He was too afraid of making her self-conscious to ask why she had eaten less today than she had during any other lunch this week. Besides she still seemed a bit off after the whole donut fiasco this morning and he could always bring it up later. _Maybe._

_

* * *

_**Emma's POV**

Milk.

He has milk.

The only thoughts going through Emma's mind revolved around the two containers Will currently held in his hand and this time it wasn't because of the incident when she was seven. He had looked confused when her outburst to put the milk away had turned into more of an incantation. The rhythm of the words was lulling her into a sense of comfort which only led her to continue reciting them. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice mentioned something about the action being a mild version of what had proven to be in the past a very aggravating symptom of her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder but that part of her mind hadn't really had much of a say in anything as of late.

Will did not question her simply placing the carton on the floor out of her sight. _Yes out of sight, definitely not out of mind._

For the rest of the period Emma couldn't concentrate on anything except the milk she knew was sitting just feet away from her. She kept glancing at the clock willing the hands to move at a pace faster than that of a Pekingese. Anything to get him out of her office because if Will left the milk would too.

She had jumped up when the bell rang whispering a quick thanks to Will before realizing she had nowhere she had to be. It was her office he was the one who needed to be going somewhere. Emma simply stood behind her desk fidgeting with her shirt. She knew he was staring at her; his head was probably tilted to the side in that cute little way that in any number of situations would have been just that. Right now all she wanted was for him to be gone. She collapsed into her chair after he had finally disappeared around the corner doing a commendable job of acting like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, like she hadn't just made a fool of herself over milk that wasn't even spilled.

* * *

**Sue's POV**

Having gotten to her office before Will Sue was working on a line about linking his apparent inability to tell time with the Lima public education system when the look in his eyes made her decide she would file it away to use later. He was always running late, there were bound to be plenty of opportunities.

"Thank you…for this morning. Thank you. I didn-"

Sue waved a hand cutting him off, "No worries William, I only wanted to brighten your day with a little hairy humor."

She contained her smile as Will ducked his head obviously chuckling at her response.

"I took some milk to Emma for lunch today and she-"

Waving him off again Sue finished for him, "and she all but ran from the room."

Will's expression was torn between confusion at her knowledge of something she had not been around to witness and relief that he wouldn't have to explain any further something he could not comprehend.

Deciding not to beat around the proverbial bush Sue in typical fashion cut right to the chase.

"When I was sick I wouldn't touch milk with a ten foot pole. No matter how many times people tell you that it's healthy it never does any good because everyone knows when you're not sick you don't have to take any extra precautions to be more healthy and in my eyes, I wasn't sick. Drinking milk would have fallen into the category of doing something that might actually benefit my body and while I could not accept that what I was doing was destroying my body I could accept that milk would help it and therefore I went over three years without so much as a drop." Sue paused allowing the information to soak in.

"But she's trying to recover, she's not sick…as sick."

"She might be eating a little bit more but trust me on the inside her mind is still operating in the world of anorexia. Even when she looks normal on the outside she is going to be everything but on the inside and it will stay that for a while. Forging a path out of the eating disorder mindset is one of the hardest things she will ever undertake and it is that, not the weight gain that causes the threat of relapse. The outside world thinks the anorexic is cured when they look normal. They conveniently forget that in this case the word mental comes before the word disorder. I would bet you twenty dollars if I hadn't lost it this morning in a rather unexpected success by our resident neandathrals in uniform that she is just as terrified at the prospect of milk as I was. To her, just as it was to me, milk is probably nothing more than liquefied fat."

Sue watched her words sink in before she told him that he should probably avoid bringing milk into the mix for a while. As Will moved to stand up she reached out and grabbed his arm and in a decidedly uncharacteristic move offered a simple,

"You're welcome, Will."

* * *

Staring at her closed door Sue allowed herself to open up some of the aspects of her life she had worked so hard to lock away. For once she didn't try to stop the thoughts that surfaced as she attempted to sort her way through a period of her life she had spent over forty years running from. She wouldn't wish what she had gone through on anyone, least of all Emma. Thought she would never admit to anyone she did respect the woman. She respected anyone who pushed on even when their mind was using every trick in the book to stop them in their tracks.

Sue's thoughts delved into her past drudging up the pure isolation she had entertained for three years that was not entirely the disorders' fault. Sue had convinced herself long ago that no one would ever care about her in any way that would even resemble love. To nullify that void she had become cynical and harsh. If she pushed everyone away they wouldn't waste their time with her. If she pushed everyone away she had a valid reason for not having someone in her life because the alternative of her being too crazy for anyone to tolerate was to this day more than she could handle.

Opening her journal to a blank page she simply wrote, "I wish I would have had someone like him… I wish I had someone like him."

In an attempt to redeem herself she penned a couple hair jokes down but the action was pointless. The only words she could stare at were the ones scribbled diagonally across the center of the page.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The knowledge that Will was going to be coming home any minute was not cause for excitement like it usually was. He was going to ask about lunch and she really didn't want to explain herself. How was she supposed to tell him that milk was right up there with cake in the category labeled "dangerous" without him thinking she was insane? _Well you are, you have the official diagnosis now. We can't forget that._

Hearing the door open she looked over the back of the couch expecting to see a question forming on Will's lips but his lips weren't moving and his face only held silent acceptance.

Their evening was relatively uneventful for them. They had played a couple games of scrabble during both Will had tried to slip in Spanish words before he finally relented and bowed out gracefully each time about a hundred points behind Emma.

In all three games of battleship everything on her side was sunk before she had even located his second ship. Will had chided that having superb warfare skills would prove to be much more valid than being able to derive words from seven letters if the world suddenly ended.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Curled up around Emma Will replayed his meeting with Sue. This one had definitely been far more personal than the other two and the more Will learned about her the more his anger became replaced with sympathy. Her seemingly cold façade was nothing more than what Emma's routines were to her, something tangible to uphold against the world that to them not only held the probability of failure but guaranteed it.

Snuggling closer into Emma Will ran his hand up her side. He could still count all of her ribs. He knew the importance of taking this slow but there was a minimum speed on this road and he knew he was dangerously close to falling under it.

The milk had been a setback, he hadn't gotten her to eat anything else the rest of the day aside from a bowl of oatmeal but tomorrow was a new day. He wondered if he could still recall the biscuit recipe he had used with his mother so many times as a child. He fell asleep trying to remember how much flour to use.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Shuffling her way into the kitchen her nose was assaulted with the smell of biscuits. She should have been afraid but the sight of Will with what was probably more flour on his shirt and face than what the recipe had called for was too adorably sweet. She could tell he was embarrassed and had probably hoped to change before she had woken up.

When he moved to hug her she pushed him away ordering him officially banished to the bathroom until all traces of his latest domestic endeavor were gone.

"You're exiling the one of us who actually has the skills to survive in a post-apocalyptic world." he cheekily informed her as he moved down the hallway step by step trying to avoid sprinkling flour everywhere.

"Whether you want to admit it or not your post-apocalyptic world will require language unless your want it to turn into a post-post-apocalyptic world."

Returning her gaze to the stove she flipped the oven light on plopping down Indian-style in front of the door. Squinting through the black she could see eight biscuits neatly lined up on a pan. The timer went off and Will still wasn't back and Emma had a silent battle with the voice. Ever since Will had left the kitchen it had been throwing out suggestions on how she could get by with eating oatmeal and now it was telling her to let them burn.

She couldn't do that to Will. Slipping on an oven mitt she opened the stove. As she watched her hand move closer and closer towards the pan she began to rethink what she was doing. Will's hand grabbing her arm and pulling it back accompanied with a good-natured lecture about how she shouldn't be trying to remove a hot pan from the stove when one hand was in a cast saved her from delving too deep within herself. Emma had rolled her eyes but was silently thankful she hadn't been the one to remove the food. That would have been too close to crossing a boundary that didn't even have a name.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will had succeeded in getting them both to the table with the tray of biscuits between them and no farther. Emma's earlier care-free nonchalance had vanished as soon as she sat down in front of her plate.

It only got worse when he actually put the biscuit down.

"Em, its safe I promise. I wouldn't make you something that wasn't safe. It won't make you fat Emma. It's just a biscuit."

He was against an impasse. He could tell. She hadn't given any hint of taking in his words and her eyes were boring a hole into some poor unseen object. He watched as her hand reached up and began rubbing the back of her shoulder a gesture he was certain she wasn't aware she was doing. Just as he was going to repeat what he was now thinking had been a monologue Emma spoke up.

"Will I don't feel so good; I'm going to call in sick. I just…my stomach hurts and I have a headache."

Her eyes were focused now but not on him. He wasn't sure what to do in this situation. He didn't want to call her out on the lie because it was kind of handy to not have her be aware that he could tell but he didn't trust leaving her here either, not that he really had a choice.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma had never skipped school and that included the days when she had been a student. The self-hatred she felt over her lie to Will and Figgins intermingled with the self-hatred that had been building up inside her all week was cloying in its mounting intensity.

She would have been lying again if she had tried to convince herself that she hadn't been intending to run to the bathroom mirror as soon as Will was out the door. She had to see what damage had been done.

Quickly she tore off her shirt and pants closing her eyes conjuring up a picture of the worst possible scenario in the hopes that maybe it wouldn't be true and the image that stared back at her would be just a little more acceptable. Counting to three she turned her head.

"Oh my god."

Emma couldn't move. Staring at her body all she could see was fat. Her stomach stuck out further than she had seen in a long time and that alone was almost more than she could handle. Rationale was trying to break through saying that there really couldn't be a drastic difference in her appearance because there hadn't been a drastic increase in her weight.

The area of her body that she was obsessing about the most was the bone on her shoulder that felt just a little less prominent when she had rubbed her hand along it at the table earlier. Until she felt it she hadn't even realized what she was doing. "Bone checking" as it was often referred to was something she did when nervous or intimidated. It sort of brought her back into reality. If she could still feel bone than she was okay. This morning she couldn't feel as much bone and that meant she was not okay.

Crawling on the counter she pressed her back up against the mirror cursing the lighting as she tried to look at her shoulder. Giving up she went back to just standing with her back to the mirror turning her head but that wasn't working either. _My phone, it has a camera._

Running into the living room she grabbed her purse dumping its contents until her phone fell to the floor. Once back in the bathroom she took pictures of herself from every angle she could think of. She wanted these pictures for more reasons than she cared to admit. They were proof of her progress, they would be proof to her future self of what she had accomplished, they were something she could turn to when she needed comfort. Her favorite were of her ribcage. Stretched out on the floor on her back she had held the phone first directly above her and then off to the side at ground level. Both shots she thought were beautiful. She could see her ribs clearly defined in the first and in the latter her hip bones were sharp and angular.

Emma felt a surge of panic when she realized that every day she was only going to be moving further and further away from these images, these beautiful images she had worked so hard at getting. If she kept up what she was doing soon she wouldn't even have this to call her own.

_Turn back. You know you want to. You're going to be nothing but a fat slob. With every bite you take you are sealing your fate. It wouldn't be that hard, you were doing it before you can do it again. You could have all of that back, all of the safety and the order and the routines, you could get it all back all you have to do is make the decision. Do you really want to be fat? Is that how you want the world to see you?_

Emma felt like crying. It had barely been a week and already her resolve was weakening. She felt completely divided into two portions that absolutely refused to negotiate. One side said to keep trying and the other said to give up. Translation: She didn't want to hurt Will but she didn't want to get fat and the line that separated the two was rapidly blurring.

Curling herself up into a ball Emma scooted up against the wall telling herself when her back connected with the cool surface that she deserved the physical discomfort. Emma wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there but even when she heard the door open as Will called out her name she couldn't bring herself to move.

* * *

**Will's POV**

He couldn't stand the thought of Emma being home alone and all morning he had done nothing but mentally berate himself for doing such an obviously stupid thing. Before the bell even rang signaling lunch he was out the door nearly running to his car. The drive over seemed to drag on forever and all of the red lights he had evaded this morning got their just rewards.

She didn't answer when he called out her name but he convinced himself it was because she was sleeping. He would have bypassed the bathroom completely if he hadn't noticed that the door was cracked open. Emma always kept the bathroom door closed. Pushing it aside gently he peered into the darkness the light from the hallway casting just enough of a glow that he could make out her form huddled against the wall.

Letting his bag slide off his shoulder he walked half way to her before sitting down cross-legged. He didn't turn the light on figuring maybe it would be easier for her to talk if she couldn't see him. It definitely would be easier for him knowing she couldn't see his face.

"Em, what's wrong? What happened?"

Will simultaneously listened to her and ticked off things he had read about these little episodes.

"Is this because of breakfast?"

"No…maybe…I dunno. If I continue this way everything will be ruined." her voice slowly petering out as if it had been swallowed up into the darkness.

Will really hoped that she meant if she continued down the path of her eating disorder that everything would be ruined but when he had asked her to clarify what she was so afraid to continue she had given the answer he had been denying and expecting all at once.

"If I keep eating like this, everything always adds up. Small things always become big things and that means that small portions becoming slightly larger portions which will only serve to equal normal portions which equals fat. Eating little things different here or there maybe that's okay but if I keep doing this I'm going to get fat."

Will let his head fall back against the wall glad that Emma couldn't see what was clearly an act of frustration. Frustration not directed at Emma but rather the disease that wouldn't give her up. There was only so much he could do by way of words and hugs at some point Emma had to break through the barrier in her mind that separated the disordered from the non-disordered. There was absolutely no way he could do that for her and until she figured out how to do it he had a feeling these bouts of insecurity were only going to keep cropping up. Something that his dad had said once about mechanical things, once something goes wrong it's only going to happen again and with more frequency that it would only be a matter of time trickled through his consciousness. She had been eating more for a week and already she was succumbing to this. What did that mean for the future?

He didn't have any words anymore at least not ones that he dared to voice aloud. Was he going to have to shift back to sprinkling fruit on her oatmeal and having her nibble her way through half a sandwich? It sounded like progress but if she never got past that point it wasn't going to improve things at all. It wasn't enough for her weight to go up and nothing seemed enough to snap her out of this mindset. Sue's words about Emma trying to get out of the grip anorexia had on her mind being the hardest thing she would have to do reverberated in his mind. Every time he thought of something that he might be able to say that single sentence silenced him.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma wasn't sure when Will had left. She did allow him to coax her into the bedroom but she never really acknowledged him after that. She was scared by the way he had reacted in the bathroom or rather not reacted. He was always the one to offer encouragement, to sooth her with just the right words. This time all he had done was to ask her what had happened and after she had told him he hadn't made another sound. What did that mean? Was he finally getting too frustrated to put up with her? If she wasn't herself she would have left herself a long time ago.

New insecurities wrapped themselves around the old ones as she volleyed back and forth between the fear of Will leaving her and the fear of getting fat. The images she had seen in the mirror would not leave her and she didn't have her phone. She must have left it in the bathroom when Will led her out. She hoped he wouldn't find it. She didn't want him to see the pictures, not that they were really incriminating. The idea of going to get her phone was simply not an option. She was terrified Will was going to leave her and where she was laying right now that was how he positioned her and how he had arranged the blankets and if she concentrated hard enough she could still feel the feather-light kiss he had placed on her forehead. She wanted to stay here enveloped in him. If she left this in her mind it meant her would leave her.

She was drowning in a downward spiral that came with its own narrator.

_Where do get off having the nerve to even feel one iota of confidence? You know you are nothing. You know you are only going to fail. You're getting fat. Your mom died and Will's going to leave you. They are probably all laughing at you at the mockery you made of yourself when you walked into that room with that ridiculous positive expression. The expression that conveyed that you thought you had a chance at life, at a normal life. You know you will never have a normal life. Why do you even allow yourself to think you can do anything? Are you that desperate that you seek out delusions of grandeur to make your sham of a life seem like it contains some vague semblance of a purpose? Obviously you are. When are you going to give up, realize that you have nothing to offer anyone except being just one more thing they have to tolerate, one more thing that they feel obligated to put up with. You're worthless. So go ahead, stay right here, cling to his scent, his pillow, like some petulant child. This is all you will ever be, a miserable excuse for a person clamoring for the control you never had to begin with. Give up. You're never going to amount to anything. What a shame that he realized that before you did._

Emma wasn't crying this time. Crying would have implied that she was trying to resist the words falling from her lips in a harsh whisper. What good is crying when you're giving up anyways?

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will had stepped into the darkness of the bedroom unnoticed by the woman he wasn't sure he recognized anymore. Emma was curled up in the fetal position rocking back and forth slightly whispering insults so fast they were slurring together. He wanted to run to her side, to take her in his arms and just hold her tight but in what was becoming an all too common occurrence he didn't even know where to start. Her tone of voice alone told him that she would be non- receptive to anything he tried.

Sliding down the wall Will folded his body into a position he hadn't been in since childhood. That universal posture that across the world meant the person felt they could handle no more. His knees were tucked into his chest while his head was encased in his folded arms as he rallied against his own inner narrator telling him to admit defeat.

He wasn't sure how long he had remained like that but when he finally did get up the protest in his muscles told him it must have been a fair amount of time. Emma had stopped mumbling to herself and instead had her nose buried in his pillow as if it were some sort of life line. Staring at her with tired eyes he realized that he would never be able to truly admit defeat. He would stay by her side forever there to coax her forward, to help her up every time she fell back down.

His bladder was protesting as well. Slipping out of the room he propped up against the doorframe of the bathroom momentarily before turning the light on allowing the heavy sigh he had been holding back to fill the silence. Making his way towards the toilet he noticed Emma's phone lying on the ground. Picking it up Will saw that it was not on the home screen but rather displayed small images. Pressing the center key his eyes widened when the display depicted a naked Emma with her back towards the mirror as she raised the phone over her shoulder. Scrolling down he found images of her lying on the floor with her ribs clearly visible followed with shots where she had obviously been angling the phone towards her hips. Those while disturbing were nothing compared to the last picture. Emma was simply standing naked in front of the mirror which normally would have been the least intense of the group if it hadn't been for one little detail. The words "fat bitch" were scrawled across her stomach in vivid red lettering. Forgetting about his original intent he walked back into the bedroom this time approaching Emma. She was too out of it to really care about what he was doing as he carefully lifted her shirt up only to see that "worthless failure" had been added underneath. Pulling her shirt back down he pushed her forward so he could squeeze in behind her and ever so gently he wrapped his arms around her letting his face fall against the back of her neck while in a gentle whisper he negated what she had written on her body.

* * *

A/N:I know I know horribly angsty but trust me when I say small events like the "milk incident" can have some very negative far reaching consequences. (Maybe like when one of your classes leaves you feeling beyond hopeless and the know-it-all in the corner only serves to compound the issue.)

Don't worry she's not relapsing she's just having a bad day and bad days to her are overwhelming because unlike a "normal" person she can't just write it off as no big deal to Emma they are proof of her shortcomings as a person and in life whether they be true or fabricated.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Serious angst alert. First off I sincerely apologize for the amount of errors sprinkled throughout the first half of the last chapter. I usually proof read stuff on the computer but somehow I ended with two hard copies (boring school day) and somehow I managed to correct one half of one and the other half on the other...hehe...oops.

I keep meaning to mention my comlete asbsence of a logical timeline. Sorry for any confusion this may be causing. I'm kind of just inserting what day of the week it is as I go along to suit my needs. My deepest respect for those of you who successfully follow a timeline. I gave up content with just getting as far as I have with this fic.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Will's POV**

The letters glaring at him from outside his car window were just that. Letters. Letters placed side by side to form words, words added to other words to ultimately ascribe meaning to the letters…

Will pressed his head into the steering wheel. For what seemed like the hundredth time he was free-associating about everything except the reason he was here to contend with. The reason as to why he was currently parked in front of a massive, multiple story, brick building staring at blocky, slightly off-white lettering that made the words Lima County Hospital so intense it seemed like they were drilling into his brain. _Maybe my lament about letters wasn't free-association after all. Take that Freud._

It wasn't that title in particular that bothered him, that was keeping him glued to the driver's seat of his car, that had him wishing his door would miraculously be frozen even though it was above thirty-two degrees for the first time in weeks. It was the letters that formed the words that formed the meaning that was affixed to the entrance of Suite 15 that was making him hesitate.

At the pace of an eighty-year old man Will stepped out of his car and with the speed of a snail he made his towards the reflective, glass, double-doors. Even though a tractor could have driven circles around him he still had to stop for the automatic doors to open.

He knew where he was going but as a fallback the map was tucked safely in his back pocket. Gently stepping onto an elevator and holding down the button labeled with a three the knowledge that this elevator would at least open in the same building was reassuring and disconcerting all at once. The more he thought about it the more appealing the idea of getting himself hopelessly lost sounded.

It would be his luck that Suite 15 would be staring him in the face as soon as the doors opened. That was the only part of the map he hadn't looked at hoping that meandering around the floor would give him time to think, not that he was staying on track in that department anyways.

It was these letters that intimidated him. He didn't exactly feel threatened by them they just confirmed a realization that he had wished a thousand times over he hadn't arrived at.

_Nutrition Associates Inc._

Inhaling deeply he inched the door forward as his mind free-associated that there should have been some sort of teeth-grinding, dissonant chord to dramatically emphasis the importance of his stepping over the threshold. _Kind of like when that doctor stepped off the baseball field in Field of Dreams…really? Stop it!_

It was four in the afternoon. Will had scheduled this appointment at a carefully thought out time and date. He had constantly asked Emma what she had going on at school until one day his inquiries accomplished their mission. Emma was stuck at the school until six this evening preparing for the career fair that was to start at seven in the morning tomorrow. Inclement winter weather had pushed everything back a day but Will still found it ridiculous that the event was now slotted for a Saturday. He would never understand Figgin's logic.

After the last "episode" with Emma when he had found the words written on her stomach he could no longer deny that he needed help, that Emma needed help outside of what he was able to provide. The long and the short of it was, she needed professional help.

He honestly did not know what to do anymore. That concept was forever running through his mind, kind of like when he got a song stuck in his head but instead of finishing out the song his mind tortured him to death repeating the same snippet that was usually in the middle of a sentence that for whatever reason would never complete itself.

The books had been helpful but he learned all too quickly that there was only so much he could learn from them, only so much that could actually be used. There were things with Emma's disorder that he had never found any material on just like there were things in the book that Emma never demonstrated. He needed a person. It was really hard to bounce scenarios off of a book. They had an aggravating habit of never giving their opinion on the matter.

Guilt was lurking on the edge of his conscious or as Emma would say in his dorso-lateral prefrontal cortex. He had no idea what that meant but he had memorized it anyways just in case he ever had reason to slip it into a conversation, preferably a conversation with Sue. Up until recently he had thought about turning it into a jibe about how she lacked the portion of the brain responsible for guilt but that idea had vanished when Sue had became a valuable insight into things he would never read in a book. She also provided her opinion.

He held the guilt at bay reiterating just how important it was that Emma not know he was here. It was bordering on sneaking around behind her back but if he told her about the appointment she would have said he was going behind her back anyways. It was half a dozen of one and half a dozen of another. He chose this half a dozen.

"William Schuester?" a polite voice filtered through into the room and subsequently into his ears easing him back into the real world. He thought about not moving, a wave of uncertainty washing over him. A quick glance around the waiting room nullified that option. He was the only male. _Just do this Will. It's going to be hard but the alternative will be harder, the alternative could be fatal._

Tapping out a rhythm with his fingers nervously on the arm of the chair as he waited in the sparsely decorated office wasn't really doing anything for his jitters. It had only been about five minutes when a young, blonde nutritionist had walked into the room. His agitation increased. He had been certain he would have been afforded at least thirty minutes to collect this thoughts. After all what medical-related place was ever even remotely on time? _This one, of course._

"You must be Will," the woman said reaching out to shake his hand.

"The power of deduction," he had quipped immediately after feeling like an idiot for not simply saying that he was who she presumed him to be.

To his relief she laughed and it sounded sincere. She introduced herself as Kristen before looking at him curiously. Will had been looking at her as well but dropped his gaze to the ground under her stare.

"Can I ask you a stupid, decidedly unprofessional question?" there was a hint of a giggle behind her voice and that alone was enough to put Will at ease.

"Uh…fire away."

"Do you ever think someone is saying your name when they are only using the word will in a sentence?" her voice now held simple curiosity and Will allowed himself to chuckle slightly. Surprisingly no one had ever asked him that before.

"Constantly, actually that is the reason I will never name a kid after a word that could appear in casual conversation. You have no idea how many embarrassing mix-ups I have been the instigator of."

She nodded smiling in what was clearly amusement at his words. Her demeanor never changed as she steered them back to the real reason he was there. The questions had started out general, questions about her family, OCD and myophobia, her relationship with her parents or siblings. They gradually became more intrusive as she had warned him they would. It had been a load off his shoulders when she had seriously informed him that he was in no way obligated to answer anything he felt uncomfortable discussing.

Will answered the ones that pertained to her disorder, listing off what symptoms she did have and what ones she did not or at least that he hadn't noticed. He recounted how she had stared at the TV in horror while watching a movie when the words "eating disorders" had been sang. There was still a lingering annoyance that he hadn't put that together sooner. He talked about the cookies from her mother, how she had snuck out of bed to throw them away and how he had discovered her in an almost animalistic state as she had shoved them into her mouth not noticing he was there. He told her everything he could remember, the purge that had followed the cookie binge, the methodical way she prepared her oatmeal, the voice that seemed always present. That was the one thing he didn't go into details about, that he felt would have been an undoable violation of Emma's privacy. _Not that this is any better._

It seemed like hours had gone by as he had searched his memory for pertinent information. The incident that had garnered the most time was the most recent one regarding the milk. At the time he told Kristen that he hadn't been too concerned about it, divulging that the information Sue had given him had been comfort enough that he had thought the event would just float on by any other minor setback. Lowering his head he talked about how Emma had lied and called in sick and how stupid he felt for not bringing up the issue then. Kristen assured him that he hadn't done anything wrong encouraging him to continue before he could beat himself up anymore. In a monotone voice he mentioned the state he had found her in at lunch and how when he got home she had been even worse rocking herself on the bed as she voiced out loud what was going through her mind. He talked about the pictures and the words he had found angrily written across her stomach. When Kristen asked him what had finally forced his hand to make an appointment he had simply replied that it had been the fact that everything he witnessed that day had been the result of a 12 oz. carton of milk.

There had been very few times in his life when Will had been faced with a problem that he felt absolutely incapable of fixing. The number of times he had run out of possible solutions was even smaller. This was the first time however that he could recall where he had outright asked for help without trying to maintain that he had some idea as to what he was doing. This was the first time he didn't give a damn about being clueless.

Walking out the double doors towards his car he reflected on the recent events. He liked Kristen he only hoped Emma would too. One of his fears was that Kristen would ask him to get Emma to come in for an appointment although to be honest he had known that it would be inevitable. He wasn't the one who needed treatment. He had gotten over that part, it seemed doable. It was the suggestion of Emma starting therapy once a week that had him terrified and it wasn't just Emma he was to have his own appointments both individual and them both as a couple. As soon as he heard the words he knew that Emma would never agree. Kristen had never actually said the phrase, "This absolutely will not work unless she starts getting therapy," but it had been more than implied.

He felt more overwhelmed walking out than he had walking in.

* * *

There was a small hiccup in his plan. Emma's car was in the driveway when he pulled up forcing him to drudge up possible scenarios about his not being home before her. _The car, perfect. I'll tell her I went to have the car looked at and if she asked what they found I can just mention something about not having comprehended anything…which would be true._

Confident in his charade he opened his mouth in preparation to Emma's third degree deluge but she wasn't waiting that the door. Looking around he noticed that she wasn't even in sight.

Hesitating before calling out her name only made the sounds of her vomiting that much more intrusive in the silence that had been surrounding him. Taking cautious steps down the hall he pushed the slightly ajar door open all the way not surprised by the image before him. Emma was bent over the toilet her fingers down her mouth as she appeared to be dry heaving rather than actually throwing up food. She was too absorbed in the task to notice him in the doorway.

"Em," he called out loud enough that she would hear. She turned her head to the side never raising it from the lowered position it occupied, her face was pale and he could see a string of saliva hanging from her lips. He watched as she hastily wiped her mouth with a towel before scooting back against the tub. Her eyes were far too calm. There was no trace of the expression she usually wore in these instances.

"What happened?"

A long awkward silence followed his question he was about to give up when she spoke.

"It doesn't matter."

"Emma I can't help you unless you want to be helped. I can't just snap my fingers and make this," he gestured towards her with his hands, "go away. This is turning into an exhausting cycle Emma and it has to stop somewhere. We are running in circles." Even he could detect the tired frustration intermingled with his serious tone.

He wasn't expecting Emma to yell, especially to proclaim that he would never understand.

The day had been far too much for him between the emotional appointment earlier and what was happening now he snapped.

"I can't understand something you won't talk about!" he could tell that his raised voice had caught her off guard. He had never really yelled at her before, at least not when she was lucid enough to be aware of it.

"You don't want to understand," Emma matched his volume perfectly her voice cracking on the last word as a small sob spilled forth.

"No Emma, you are not going to turn this on me. This is not about me. This is about you, your refusal to let me in." he had given up on trying to quell the anger inside of him. He didn't care anymore.

"Don't you dare guilt-trip me. That's low even for you." Emma responded with that dark tone he had only heard once before; when she had demanded to know what he would have done if the people he talked to had said she had needed to be admitted.

"I'm tired of running in circles Emma. My efforts have obviously proven to not be enough. Emma, you need help. Professional help because I can't fix this on my own and neither can you." He had successfully managed to bring his voice down a few notches but her next comment only reinforced his earlier notion of not burying his anger.

"Just say it Will, admit that you don't want someone as crazy as me. Admit that you are giving up on me. Admit the disappointment I know desperate you must have felt when the hospital wouldn't take me off your hands. Say it!"

"I can't do this Emma, not tonight." He snarled before he turned leaving Emma sitting on the bathroom floor. Grabbing his keys he slammed the door behind him.

* * *

He had no set destination in mind as he weaved his way around cars driving the same roads over and over. He was on autopilot, too emotionally exhausted to even begin to think about what had just happened and quite frankly he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to go back either.

A motel 6 answered his sleeping arrangement question. His other alternatives had been the school or his car but this one seemed a much better fit. Maybe the semi-normalcy of the environment would bring him out of whatever he was in.

Thanking the man behind the counter he set off in search of his room. He cursed the electronic key when it didn't work on the first swipe. Normally he would have just sighed because they never worked on the first go for him. It was like some un-written rule. Tonight he wanted to cut the thing to pieces and he probably would have hadn't it worked the second time.

Throwing the door open and slamming it closed he took one step before he let his back collide harshly with the hard surface behind him. Slowly he slid down the door once again tucking his knees against his chest and burying his head in his arms. The only difference this time was that he was all out crying. This was not the silent tears he so often dealt with. This was a gut-wrenching, sobbing cry. He felt like he was two years old again except this time his reason to cry was far more dire than his parents denying him a candy bar.

He wanted to scream and he would had he not wanted to scare the crap out of the person he could hear milling about above him. He settled for slamming his fist into the door knowing it wouldn't dent or worse leave a whole like the plastered walls would. The pain actually gave him more energy and something Emma had mentioned once about a chemical in your brain known as substance P was responsible not only for the production of pain but also a huge release of endorphins. He also knew that if he were to slam his other fist into the door the pain would decrease in the other one because more substance P would be produced which would lead to more endorphins. He hated it when he thought about things that at the moment he could care less about. He hated it more when the thoughts actually completed themselves.

* * *

The sunlight filtering into the room served as his alarm clock. Glancing at the actual alarm clock he groaned when he saw that it was one in the afternoon. He was pretty sure he had been a teenager the last time he slept this late and that he had been pretty hung over. In his defense he had no idea how long he had stayed up crying and mulling things over in his mind.

Having only rented the room for one night he needed to get out pretty fast. The idea of having to pack things and have vacated the room in less than an hour had him jumping out of bed in a panic until he remembered that he was the only belonging he had to pack. With that thought he settled back under the covers thinking about what he was going to do about Emma or rather what he was going to do about how much he had probably screwed things up last night.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The one and only thing occupying Emma's thoughts right now was to get the ice cream and cake she had been forced to eat out of her body. She might have been okay if it were anything else, anything else that was not on her "I will probably never touch that again for as long as I live" list. She could have probably weaseled her way out of the ice cream had they not bought a special non-dairy type.

She was frustrated when nothing came up the first two times momentarily terrified that it had been too long since the substance had entered her body. Sitting back she waited a couple minutes before trying again. This time she got results, bits of what was clearly chocolate cake combined with a milky, white liquid clouded the water. _I ate more than that I know I did. All of it needs to be out. Keep going. _

Her thoughts about having eaten more than what she had produced had morphed into the voice mocking her attempts, laughing at her for having eaten anything at all, telling her non-stop about how fat she looked now.

She didn't notice Will standing in the doorway until he spoke her name loud enough to be heard over what was now dry heaves.

Emma didn't care this time that he was here fueled partially by the voice and partially by her anger that he had interrupted what clearly needed to be done. The best defense was to not care she decided. She told him it didn't matter taking joy in the pained expression it evoked. He was used to getting answers. _Not this time buddy. Not this time. _

She remained fairly impassive as he rambled on about something along the lines of not being able to help her if she didn't want to be helped. It was his comment about everything being an exhausting cycle that they were running in circles that had made her lose it. He didn't have the right to say that about her. He didn't understand what she was going through.

It wasn't the first time she had yelled at him when she voiced the latter thought but it was the first time she had been completely aware of what she was doing. It was also the first time he had yelled back at her. Momentarily his outburst had startled her but that had quickly morphed into a surge of anger that only propelled her forward.

She really had been offended when Will had tried to guilt-trip her saying that this was about her and not him. Of course it was about him, he was the one would who couldn't understand. Her cutting remark about that being low even for him hadn't seemed to have phased him in the least.

Emma had tuned him out as she formulated her next come back. She was fully intent on blocking everything he said until the words "professional help" entered into the equation. That did it. All of her insecurities she had felt that day when Will had admitted that he had called the eating disorder unit resurfaced. She didn't even need the voice to order her to say what she did next.

"Just say it Will, admit that you don't want someone as crazy as me. Admit that you are giving up on me. Admit the disappointment I know how desperate you must have felt when the hospital wouldn't take me off your hands. Say it!"

Her eyes bored into his as she searched his face for signs of sympathy she knew had to be forthcoming. She definitely was not aware of the full meaning of his words about not being able to do this tonight. She had simply expected him to leave the bathroom and hole himself up in some other part of the apartment. The sound of the door slamming closed caused her to jump and even though she steadfastly refused not to cry tears slid down her cheeks anyways.

_What did I just do?_

Emma didn't move from that position for the rest of the night. Her muscles were aching and her back hurt from the hard surface of the tub but she was not going to move. She didn't deserve the comfort of the bed not after what she had just done to Will when all he had ever tried to do was help her. Guilt stronger than any she had ever experienced seeped into her very core.

It wasn't some grand epiphany. It wasn't like she had been curled up on the floor and just made a split-second decision. This decision had been turned every which way it could, poked and prodded and examined carefully from all angles.

What she was doing wasn't worth losing Will. Although it wasn't exactly a concrete promise that she would do everything in her power to recover it was the first time she had ever really allowed herself to seriously consider the idea.

Stumbling out of the bathroom she realized she had less than an hour before she had to be at the career fair. She hated these things. This year they had even made her set up her own booth as if she would really be able to convince anyone to be a counselor. Usually she was crowd control. She would never understand Figgin's logic.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Coasting on fumes into the driveway Will half expected the apartment to look like the victim of a natural disaster given the domestic disaster that had taken place last night. He shouldn't have been surprised when everything was pristine and in its allotted place but he was.

Emma would have gotten home a couple of hours ago. He had milled about town for the last four hours to avoid coming here before she would be back. He didn't want to be the first thing she saw when she walked in the door not after the stunt he had pulled last night combined with the stress of the career fair.

He could hear noises in the kitchen, the microwave to be exact. Will sighed, all the paraphenellia indicative of a bowl of oatmeal was neatly arranged on the counter. _Whatever, that's not the issue right now._

Walking up behind Emma he began to apologize only to have the microwave ding cut him off. He started again but was cut off this time due to shock as Emma shoved past him not even so much as acknowledging his presence. He probably should have pressed the matter, made her listen to him but it wouldn't do any good in the long run. People only rebel more when forced to do something they don't want to. Besides, he wasn't going to follow her around like a kicked puppy when she was just as much at fault as he was.

Emma had plopped down on the couch her bowl of oatmeal neatly centered on the coffee table as she proceeded to poke at it with her spoon. Sometimes he wondered if she didn't have some sort of self-imposed rule about having to wait so long before allowing herself to take the first bite. Other times given the relatively consistent time in which she finished her bowl had him wondering if she didn't have an exact number of bites she forced herself to abide by. He had always meant to count.

Deciding that sitting in the same room even if it was on a different piece of furniture would be too awkward he settled himself into a kitchen chair. Concentrating on the word-search before him was impossible. His mind was too busy playing tennis with frustration at the way Emma was blatantly ignoring him and how he was going to tell her about the therapist suggestion. _Of course if she never talks to me again the latter really won't be an issue._

It had been over an hour and he had highlighted only five words. It was an absurd topic anyways. Who wants to do a word-search about tropical fish? Since he knew it hadn't been the book in front of him that caused him to not notice Emma leaving the room he must have been completely immersed in his thoughts. _It would be great if I could actually remember the thoughts I was immersed in._

_

* * *

_

**Emma's POV**

After having waited five minutes before taking her first bite of oatmeal leaving thirty-six more to go Emma had chanced a peek at Will from the corner of her eye. His head was bent over a book of word-searches but she could tell by the way his brow wasn't furrowed in concentration that he wasn't really searching for any words.

It was eleven o'clock and even though it was a Saturday night she was absolutely exhausted. Will had not even shown any indication that he had noticed her head down the hall to their bedroom. That was fine with her. She was still too ticked off to talk to him. Inside she was livid with herself for the way she was treating him but the combination of the thoughts that had trickled their way into her conscious last night and the anger she felt for everything she had put him through in some illogical equation she would never understand equaled ignoring him completely.

She had been expecting him to follow her around apologizing a million different ways until she finally relented but he had stopped after she had pushed past him in the kitchen. To be honest she was angry about that as well. He always was the run to come running and say he was sorry up and down even when something was more her fault than his. Of course they had never had anything of this magnitude take place before so there really was no rulebook.

Slipping in between the covers Emma attempted to read what was proving to be an absolutely confusing-as-hell novel. She had decided a while back to work her way through the most recent nobel prize winners but Lloseph Varga and his "Best work to date" War of the End of the World could have been kindling if she didn't feel so passionate about not defacing books. She couldn't even throw them away, not when someone, no matter how absolute crap the book was had put time and effort into it. Why she was still muddling her way through this maze of time-shifts, numerous French and Spanish words she refused to look up no matter how many times they occurred and oddly named characters she really didn't know. If she would have been assigned this book as part of her English minor the last thing on her mind would be reading it just to read it.

After a few pages and nodding off without realizing it a couple times she carelessly placed the book on the nightstand and turned the lamp off. Leaving her alone with only the darkness and thoughts she was certain were even darker to accompany her.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Pretending he had to go to the bathroom Will snuck a glance into the bedroom. Emma was reading under the faint glow of the lamp beside the bed. How she could stand to read that novel was a mystery to him. One night in complete desperation for something to read he had managed to make it to page thirty before he decided he really wasn't that desperate for something to read after all.

He paused at the hall closet, opening the door and pulling out a few blankets and a spare pillow. There was no way he was going to try and sleep with Emma not with the way she was ignoring him. The safest course of action was the couch even if it did mean his neck would kill him all day.

Usually Will had no problem falling asleep. He prided himself on being able to drift off in minutes no matter where he was but tonight he found himself staring into the darkness. Closing his eyes hadn't worked they had only kept creeping open without him noticing. Shifting into every position imaginable was not conducive to anything except his pillow falling to the ground more times than he cared to count.

What time the sandman visited him, as his mom used to say, was something he would never know.

* * *

Will jolted awake with a start. Something had been crawling on him and he knew he hadn't dreamt it. Ever since he was a child he had an irrational fear of something climbing onto his bed and pulling him underneath and as embarrassing as it was the childhood terror had never actually gone away.

Taking deep breaths to steady his racing pulse he realized that it was Emma. She was stretched out along his body, her chest to his with her head in her favorite place, tucked under his chin. Will didn't move at first unsure of what to make of the situation and still slightly annoyed at her cold shoulder treatment earlier.

She turned to bury her head in his chest an action he knew meant she was feeling insecure as she mumbled against the blanket a broken, "I'm sorry Will."

Her tone could have split his heart into pieces. She sounded so vulnerable, so scared. His instinct was always to protect her, to make her feel safe. Wrapping his arms around her torso he whispered softly into the night.

"So am I Em. So am I."

A shiver shook her body not long after that and Will had told her to stand as he lifted the blanket up softly telling her to crawl underneath but not before he attempted to lighten the mood by commenting about furnaces needing repairs. He hadn't been expecting any kisses and Emma hadn't offered any. The only purpose of the statement had been to alleviate the heavy, oppressive, unseen force around them.

He could feel a small patch of his shirt becoming damp with Emma's tears. Bringing a hand up and running his fingers through her hair he placed a ghost of a kiss against her forehead.

"We'll figure this out Em." By the time Will whispered that they really needed to sit down and talk Emma had fallen asleep but he knew that Emma knew and that was enough.

* * *

A/N: I know the whole Will being able to tell all that about Emma to a nutrionist is totally unrealistic but hey it's fiction...I also have no idea if it's even possible to have non-dairy ice cream. I had written a chunk before I remembered her aversion to dairy.

and yes it does make me feel better that Emma is muddling her way through War of the End of the World...and that Will hates it. :)


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Okay this one was waay emotional for me. I used more words here to describe a little over an hour than I have when describing two days. I'm not sure if I'm impressed or disgusted lol.

Greys has become my life: Don't look too closely (you already are lol) and don't back read carefully for that matter either. There are a MILLION things that magically/accidently happen/don't happen/appear/disappear... kinda like how Emma's cast magically disappeared. I of course never notice these things until I'm rereading the story chapter after chapter.

Let's call it magical realism shall we and before the English people jump all over me yes I know it's a literay term and yes I know it doesn't exactly apply to this story lol.

Seriously you guys I'm writing a chapter off and on that is going to be like 98% fluff because they need a break just as bad as we do. I think you will like it. It will be unique and hopefully introduce you to something you don't know much about!

**Chapter Fourteen**

**

* * *

****Emma's POV**

Emma glared at the letters looming before her. She was still sitting in Will's car strangely hypnotized by the meaning of the words. The last time she had been at a hospital for something that she was slightly in denial about her mom had died. No one was in danger of dying today. She was the reason they were sitting here in front of this intimidating structure. She was the reason behind a lot of things lately.

Over her standard breakfast plus one biscuit Will had cautiously told her about the appointment he had scheduled and attended. Her calm reaction had surprised her. She should have been furious with him for doing one more thing to betray her but the memories of yesterday squelched any negativity she tried to direct his way. Yesterday was heaven and hell sealed in one package. They had yelled at each other. He had walked out leaving her curled up in a sobbing ball on the floor.

He had spent the night in a motel.

All of that had been hell and she never wanted to relive it. Logically she knew it was probably a good thing that everything had happened the way it did. It had knocked a bit of sense into her and although she still wanted to deny the severity of her situation she was accepting that there _was_ a situation and that maybe she should get help.

Her actions towards Will the next evening had been absolutely inexcusable but somehow her mind had not only excused them but also had given her permission to partake in them. During the night before she went to join him on the couch her thoughts turned on her but in a way she wasn't familiar with anymore. They were still negative, berating her for the way she was ignoring Will and how she maintained that everything was his fault when all he had ever done was show her patience, kindness and support. He had picked her up more times than she could count. She had been terrified that Will would reject her even after she apologized. She still wasn't sure if she would have forgiven herself but that was Will. He was always ready to forgive. He hadn't embraced her like she thought he would. When she whispered her apology she was determined that she be the first one to say sorry. She had been far worse to him than he had ever been to her in all the time she had known him. She had started crying asking for forgiveness with tears again praying that she hadn't done damage beyond repair. _Forgive me twice for I can't offend just once._

When he finally did wrap his arms around her tears intensified and she could feel the spot she was leaving on his shirt. The feeling of his fingers in her hair and the brush of his lips against her forehead was heaven. The kiss had been soft, almost non-existent but the meaning behind it had been almost deafening.

"Hey Em, we only have about forty-five minutes and there is going to be paperwork." Will's gentle voice pulled her from her reverie and just as gently brought her back to the present.

Emma allowed herself to coast along to the rhythm of his words as she watched her feet one after the other carry her towards cold, hard, unfeeling brick and with every step she reminded herself what was at stake. Will she noticed with a quick glance apparently found his feet just as fascinating as she did hers walking along with his hands jammed into his pockets as he kicked at a stone before falling back in step beside at her side.

Emma involuntarily halted a few feet away from the automatic door. She had fully intended on walking right through that door but her legs refused to comply. The sound of the door opening was like a personal invitation to an unknown, sinister parallel universe. Will must have been expecting this reaction. In the time it had taken her to conjure up the idea of a parallel universe his hand had come to rest on the small of her back. There was no pressure, no attempt to move her forward. He was simply reminding her that he was there, reminding her that he believed in her.

Stepping through the doors of her own accord his hand a comforting weight through her clothes she wondered if she would have turned around if it hadn't been for his simple gesture. If she would have turned around or if she would have frozen the way she had outside her mom's room.

Once inside Will took the lead. Emma went out of her way to not take in any identifiable land marks keeping her eyes trained on the floor prepared to fix her eyes on Will's back if the carpet suddenly changed from a dull blue. She really didn't want to have the route that was causing panic to creep into her mind with every step memorized. Not when it was slowly sending her spiraling her into an oppressive, overwhelming state of fear. Risking a look at her surroundings upon hearing the elevator door after the feeling of moving up had stopped her eyes widened. She wished the letters in front of her could be construed as meaning anything but what they did.

_Nutrition Associates Inc._

Emma found herself once again unable to move although this time she silently thanked her body. She didn't want to move anyways. The doors slid shut in front of her and she was taken aback when Will did not slip his hand between them to trip the sensor.

As the elevator began its decent back to the lobby Will pulled her into a soft embrace. He didn't say anything just allowing his actions to convey the comfort he was bestowing upon her. Sometimes she found these little touches more effective than words and somewhere along the way he had caught on to that.

Will must have pressed the button for the third floor but she didn't notice. Apparently no one had been waiting to get on either. She was okay with that. It meant Will could continue to hold her close to his body, it meant that she could spend just a few more precious seconds listening to the sound of his slow, steady pulse. She was certain that if she were to really concentrate that her pulse would be able to squeeze two beats in between two of his.

The doors opened again and Will pulled back looking into her eyes. "As much as I love carnival rides this doesn't classify as one so can we get off this time? I'm rather partial to being able to walk in a straight line."

Emma distantly registered his words but she more than registered the fact that there was absolutely no way for her to escape. The walls of the elevator seemed to be closing in on her and momentarily she thought that if they really did crush her it would definitely absolve her of the escape problem. Her mind raced. The small space she was in left her no options but the open one before her held three, one of which wasn't really an option so it held two. _Left or right. _

Not giving herself anymore time to contemplate what she was about to do needing the element of surprise for this to work she flew past Will pivoting to her left and hoping fervently that it wouldn't' prove to be a dead end. It was a dead end.

A warm dead end that had arms.

It certainly operated like a dead end effectively ceasing any forward motion. Emma stepped to the side only to come face to chest with Will once again. He probably had known she was going to bolt before the idea had even entered her mind. After a few more side-steps that two an outsider would have made it appear they were dancing in the hallway Emma gave up dropping her head against his chest.

"Will let's just go home okay? We can make another appointment, come back on another day…I-I don't feel good."

Emma really didn't know what made her think Will would believe something that even she couldn't tell wasn't true. She could have asked the same question in a million parallel universes and it would still have been paired with the same answer.

"No Emma. You need to go to this appointment," lifting her head so her eyes met his he continued, "Remember what I said this morning? You aren't doing this alone. I'm right here at your side sort of like a puppy that's always underfoot. You can't get away from me."

Emma knew her memory wasn't that bad. The puppy comment had not been in his speech this morning but his playful tone had ensured that it had probably accomplished its intended mission as she smiled slightly into his chest.

Will hugged her closer for a brief moment before he turned her around so that she was facing the door she had tried so desperately to avoid. This time the hand on her back was gently urging her forward and she complied with small, tentative steps. They were still a couple feet away when she stumbled nearly falling as Will effortlessly caught her almost as if he had been expecting it. It wasn't until he whispered a playful "woof" into her ear that she realized the thing she had tripped over had been his foot.

Leave it to Will to get her through the door and into the room that represented an elephant part of her wanted to leave alone while another told her it needed to be addressed with a smile on her face and a small yet sincere giggle spilling from her lips.

Emma was surprised when she heard her name called out in a polite, feminine voice. The only thing she could remember about sitting in the waiting room was the mountain of paperwork that had taken considerably less time than the pile had originally indicated. After that she had become so wrapped up in herself that time went by unnoticed.

Standing up she desperately pulled Will's hand into her own while his other hand took up what was becoming a permanent residence on her lower back. Making their way down a maze of hallways her hand only tightened after they had been told to make themselves comfortable on the couch and that the nutritionist would be in shortly. She knew she was probably hurting him but he was a guy he could take it and because he was Will he would never say anything even if she broke every bone in his hand.

Emma remained quiet her head lowered slightly as she listened for the tell-tale sound of charts being pulled from the door, that sound that meant a knock was seconds away. Far quicker than she would have ever imagined she heard the muted rustle of papers coupled with a soft knock as a woman with a friendly smile walked in. As much as Emma wanted to hate her she couldn't. This woman who had introduced herself as Kristen seemed like someone Emma would like, someone that in real life she could see herself being friends with.

Will had stood up effectively removing her human stress ball to shake Kristen's hand quipping something about the power of deduction which had caused them both to laugh at what was clearly an inside joke. Emma felt no jealously instead she was fascinated and envious only of the way Will could so easily relate to people. The blonde looked at Will obviously trying to suppress a giggle.

"_Will_ you please have a seat, Will," she asked politely her voice wavering with the laugh she couldn't contain as she over-emphasized the first word of the sentence.

"Touche," Will bowed his head as he settled himself behind Emma wrapping his arm around her waist. Even though she was completely out of the loop she had smiled a bit at that last sentence. She had always meant to ask Will how confusing it was to have a name that appeared so often in everyday conversation. She knew from her own experience that once Will had become such a fixture in her life it was slightly awkward to use the word in a sentence, so much so that she often tried to find a substitute. Saying that word and not thinking of it his name was impossible.

The woman who Emma had guessed to be about her age sat down on a plush chair that was placed along the opposite wall. There were two small tables between them and before she registered what she was doing Emma reached out and straightened them with an embarrassing amount of precision. Her voice was timid as she apologized but Kristen had only laughed saying that she had been meaning to do that anyways. Will was trying to contain his laugh but Emma could feel him shake beside her and the snort that he didn't manage to contain had earned him a mock glare that soon became an overly dramatic eye roll.

Emma gave Kristen props when her friendly demeanor had not altered in the least when the questions regarding her home life, OCD and mysophobia turned in a more serious direction. _Maybe she's not so bad._

"How long has this been going on Emma?" her almost melodic voice put Emma at ease about her answer even though it wouldn't be all that helpful.

"Honestly I don't remember. I don't even remember when it got this…bad. I can't remember a time where I wasn't like this even though I can remember what I ate before it. I just don't remember what it feels like to not be terrified of food, to eat something without caring about calories."

_Why did I add that? That wasn't part of the question. What the hell am I doing? _

Kristen had simply nodded saying that her answer was not out of the norm that many people could not accurately pinpoint a time when they began to fall into an eating disorder because the process was so gradual that they didn't notice until it was severe and even then it was the people around them that were the first to confront them about what was going on. Continuing on as if Emma's last comment had been part of her inquiry her mentioning that she had never treated someone with anorexia who could remember what it was like to eat normally at least hushed the voice in her head that was calling her crazy at the absurdity of a such small section of her life having the power to skew her past so effectively.

Emma answered a few more questions wondering not only why she was being asked symptomatic questions when she already had the diagnosis but also why she was able to notice it this time. Maybe it was because as much as she wanted to believe otherwise she wasn't in denial anymore.

Her shame was so overpowering she was certain it was tangible as she recounted events she didn't want to talk about. Events she didn't even want to think about because all they did was reinforce the ever present notion that she was crazy.

"What were you thinking when you were eating the cookies out of the trash bag?" Kristen's tone held no hint of disgust settling a few of Emma's nerves.

"I wasn't, well that's not exactly true. Before when I went out to get the bag I was wracked with guilt. All I could picture were those cookies that my mom had baked specifically for me sitting in a dumpster. That was the initial reason behind my going to get them. I never intended for the rest to happen." Emma was quite content to stop her narration right there too embarrassed to tell her the rest when Will was sitting beside her even though he had been there to witness it.

"What happened that you weren't intending to happen?" _Damn._

Taking a deep breath Emma forced herself to act like Will wasn't there, like he wasn't listening to a surefire testament to how messed up she really was.

"I opened the bag and starting digging for the cookies. I had a coffee can on the counter that was where I was going to put them. I was going to put the coffee can on the highest shelf and I hoped that somehow the act of having to go get a stepstool to reach them would make it less likely for me to actually eat them. It was the smell that got to me. I was only going to take one small bite but as the smell got stronger the closer the cookie got to my mouth so did the feeling of losing control of my body. My one bite turned into cramming the entire thing in my mouth while I fished the rest out ignoring the coffee grounds that covered them. There had been other things in the package, fancy cakes and reeses. I had told myself I wasn't going to touch them the fact that they had a set amount of calories being my reasoning. That didn't last long. Once again I told myself I was only to eat one of each and just like the cookies I lost control. I couldn't really taste any of it, I don't know why, maybe because I wasn't really aware of what I was doing. Even the voice telling me I was going to get fat was silenced by my actions. I didn't notice Will enter the room. I didn't really register it as him when he moved towards me to grab the cookies in my hand. To me he was just a threat, something that was going to take away a prized possession. I vaguely remember him trying to talk to me, holding me against the wall and I think I might have been talking out loud. I don't know. I do remember running to the bathroom as the realization of everything I had just consumed slammed into me. I remember making myself throw up terrified that all of it wouldn't come out that this vile mistake would forever remain inside me. I do remember feeling his arms pull me backwards I still didn't realize it was Will. The only thing that mattered to me was finishing what I started and he was only something that was preventing that. I don't know how long he held me but I do I know that when I woke up I pushed my my way out of his arms as the memory of everything I had done came flooding back. Those memories were secondary to one thing. Will had seen it. He had seen how absolutely crazy I was. I told him he could leave, that I would understand, that I knew this wasn't what he had signed up for. I told him that he deserved someone attractive, someone sane. He hugged me then telling me that he wasn't going to leave me and as much as I wanted to I wasn't entirely convinced. He asked if I knew what my weight was and for a moment I thought about lying. I could have gotten away with it, he wouldn't have known but I so desperately wanted to know how much I had screwed up my progress. Will wouldn't leave the room, obviously not trusting me to tell the truth and I can't say that I blame him. I wouldn't have trusted me either. I had laughed at him when he had begun to tell me that he wouldn't look at me, told him that it didn't matter because either way he was going to run and I truly believed that. I truly believed that once he saw how fat I was he would walk out. I took off my clothes before he even had a chance to look the other way and maybe thinking back I did that on purpose. Maybe somewhere inside all of the malice I wanted someone to see what I was doing to my body, wanted someone to notice. I kept my eyes closed and asked him to read the number. I have no idea why I did that. All I had been thinking about when I stepped on that scale was seeing how much damage I had caused but when I actually had the chance I couldn't do it. I chickened out."

Emma lowered her voice with the last sentence allowing it to trail off because she didn't want to admit that she didn't have the power to simply read a couple numbers. Turning her head to the side to look at Will his hands were clasped in front of him as his elbows rested on his knees, his head lowered as he silently stared at the ground. Emma longed to know what he was thinking but the fear of what his answer might be stopped her from asking. _He's probably realizing how absolutely fucked up you really are. Reliving the event just drove home that little point. Nice job, managing to convince this gullible dope that he has been deluding himself into thinking you were even the slightest bit sane._

Kristen had been scribbling notes throughout the painful dive into the murky depths of her past and as much as she wanted to feel angered at the gesture she knew how absolutely necessary it was. _So what? So you know that she needs to take notes. Why would that keep you from feeling angry? Are you siding with her? Siding with her is just another failure you can add to the list that I assure you, will never end._

It was her turn to listen as Will was put on the spot and she too found herself staring at the floor.

Slightly numb both from her morbid foray into the world of story telling and from her unsuccessful attempts to ignore the voice that had barged its way back into her life with a vengeance she didn't really think too much about Kristen asking if she could get her weight. It was only when Will stood up saying he would be just outside that she jumped into action. There was no way Will was leaving this room. That would give them the opportunity to run, to abandon her. Kristen seemed to have sensed Emma's discomfort but misinterpreted it as not wanting to undress in front of her. Will had spoke up then for the first time since he their banter earlier saying that he would stay in the room with her and on request promising that he would not let Emma see her weight. Emma was relieved. He couldn't run if he was stuck in here with her.

Emma began taking her shirt off drawing out the process as much as she could and she was doing fine until the voice started taunting that he was once again going to see how disgusting she was and that even though she had solved the problem of him leaving her for the moment it was inevitable in the end. Tears began sliding down her cheeks and her hope of Will not noticing was banished when he suddenly appeared behind her telling her it was okay as he helped to remove her shirt, her arms having froze half way through the process.

Will didn't have to completely undress her by the time she had to remove her pants she had regained control of her hands. She didn't meet his gaze as she stood there in her underclothes her mind bombarding her with image after image of how she must look to him. Emma walked up to the scale without Will's encouragement she even stepped onto the scale without his encouragement. She looked down as Will placed the front of his shoe on a button that must have served to activate the device she was standing on. He looked back up before she could pretend she hadn't been looking down. Quickly Will cupped her chin bringing her face up to his but she could not meet his stare no matter how much comfort she would have probably found. She tried to look down only to have Will calmly order her to close her eyes. She did so for less than a second before opening them again. It would be her luck that Will hadn't moved.

"Close your eyes, Em," his voice while gentle held an edge to it that forced her to comply.

To Emma it seemed like she had been standing there forever her mind a whirlwind of numbers. A soft "c'mon" from Will made her almost want to jump off the object beneath her as he lead her off telling her to keep her eyes closed. Upon hearing the okay from Will she focused her line of sight as she slowly began to pick up her clothes silently coming up with ways that she could sneak a glance at the number she knew would still be there. Her mind kindly informed her that even from where she stood she was just tall enough to be able to see over the top of the scale, just tall enough to see the display. Picking up her pants she turned quickly her intended target replaced with Will's chest. Once again he had figured out what she was going to do before she had. Holding back her frustration she tried the one option she had left.

"Just tell me Will. Please."

"Emma, you know I can't do that." He was right she did know he couldn't do that but knowing not to do something and actually deciding not to do that something were two different matters. Leave it to Will to have the moral code of a saint.

Finishing with the rest of her clothes a soft knock resounded on the door and Emma stubbornly remained silent. It was Will who called out that Kristen could come in. _See, he's trying to speed up the process because the faster he gets out of this unfortunate situation the faster he can get away from you._

Emma had curled herself up into a small ball her head resting on his thigh while his arm stretched out across her side. She didn't care how pathetic she looked, not anymore.

Kristen walked in and Emma began to study the floor. She didn't want to see the woman's reaction to her weight. _Fat, you don't want to see her reaction to your fat not your weight. Get your facts straightened out before you actually allow yourself to think them or worse voice them. _

For a moment Emma thought about asking Kristen what her weight was but if Will wouldn't tell her via her orders it was ludicrous to think that Kristen would. It was only a few minutes before the appointment ended which of course only opened the door for another one to be set up. The voice in her head commented on Will's stupidity as he walked out the door to the car with his arm around her shoulder.

**

* * *

**

Will's POV

Watching Emma out of the corner of his eye as the elevator doors opened her sudden inability to move didn't surprise him. He thought about pushing her forward but a quick glance at his phone told them they had more time then he thought they did so he let the doors close again.

Pulling Emma close to him he didn't offer any words knowing that his touch and proximity would be enough to calm her. He kept his arms around her as the elevator made its way back to the lobby and he was silently relieved that there was no one waiting to get back on not that it would have mattered. He would have kept his arms around Emma not really caring what they thought although he probably would have maneuvered them so that they were not smack-dab in the center of such a small space. Moving one arm he pressed the button again for the third floor and closed his eyes at the familiar feeling of being pressed downwards as the elevator began its ascent.

When the doors opened for a second time his attempt to lighten the mood by mentioning that although he loved rides he really wasn't up for another go on an elevator had fallen flat. Prior experience had taught him that she was going to make a run for it probably before she had even considered the option. As expected Emma ran past him although it had been just fast enough that he wasn't able to stop her. Her moment of slight hesitation about which direction to head had given him the edge he needed. Preparing his body to move swiftly in whichever direction she chose he easily managed to place himself between her and what she was probably hoping wasn't a dead end. It wasn't a dead end really unless he counted himself as one. Emma tried a few times to side-step him but he once again blocked her path. It almost felt like they were doing some sort of line dance, all he would have had to do was start doing the grapevine. When she asked if they could reschedule stuttering out that she wasn't feeling it was obvious that even she didn't believe her words. In a gentle voice he told her that rescheduling was not a possibility drawing on his earlier words about not leaving her side, not letting her do this alone. In another attempt to lighten the mood he likened himself to a puppy that would never move out of the way. He closed his eyes and exhaled slightly when he felt Emma smile against his chest.

Steering her towards the door with his hand on her back this time acting as a buffer against her moving backwards allowing himself to use an almost miniscule amount of pressure to urge her forward. It was during what Emma probably thought of as a death march that an idea popped into his head. Waiting until they were a little ways away from the door he kicked his foot out to the side to catch Emma's let as it came back up to take a step. He had already been poised to catch her as he leaned in to whisper a soft "woof" into her ear. The fact that Emma had walked into what was probably a living reincarnation of a nightmare with a smile on her face and the cute giggle he loved so much gave him hope for the day.

Emma filled out sheet after sheet of a mound of paperwork. Idly he wondered who came up with so many forms deducing that culprit must have been an incredibly sadistic individual. Her hand writing was flawless even in this situation, his was always barely legible especially in these situations as his frustration grew as he rewrote a hundred times Schuester, William.

When he heard her name Will mentally prepared himself for the death grip that was about to envelope his hand. Yep, there it was. Emma clung to his hand as they followed the lady in a dizzying path to a different office than he had been in last time. _I'm going to have to ask how to get the hell out of here._

Sitting quietly in the small room he was beginning to wonder about the bones in his hand when Kristen walked in. More to remove his hand from Emma's vice grip than anything else he stood up to shake the woman's hand throwing in a comment about whether or not the power of deduction had allowed her to identify him as Will.

She got him back when she had asked him to sit down purposely using the word "will" spending more time on that word than any of the others until she ended the sentence with his name. _She's good._

Will could tell right off the bat that Emma and Kristen were going to get along just fine hopefully even considering the situation. In all honesty he could picture them being good friends.

Kristen sat across from Emma much like she had from Will when he had seen her. Emma unable to stop herself and probably not even aware she was doing it reached out to straighten the slightly crooked tables that were just inches in front of her. He had been betting it would take her fifteen seconds to notice but it had only taken eight. Yes he had been counting which was why he was now working to stifle a laugh. He just barely caught the laugh but the snort had escaped. Emma's over-emphasized eye roll was a welcomed response. _She's comfortable._

Will was impressed once again as Kristen's friendly manner had not changed in any perceptible way as the questions just as they had with him gradually slid into the realm of things more serious. He carefully listened for Emma's answer about when the disorder had started. He had been wondering how long Emma had been struggling with this but never had the guts to ask. It was slightly worrisome to him that when she said she didn't know. Her continuation about how she couldn't even remember what it was like to eat normally had definitely taken him off guard for two reasons. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must be for her to try to eat something outside her definition of "safe" when she couldn't remember what it felt like to eat something "safe" without it being "unsafe." The second being that Emma had just given Kristen more information the she had asked for and that gave him hope.

Every day he learned something new about a disorder he had never really considered a disorder. Before all of this he had viewed anorexia as more of a byproduct of today's society. Like the rest of the general population his opinion was based on the visible changes anorexia caused and like the rest of the population he assumed that it was well within their power to stop at any time. After everything he had watched Emma go through, after the glimpses he had gotten into her psyche he couldn't believe he had ever thought those things were the summation of anorexia nervosa. This disorder was about so much more than weight loss. This disorder revolved more around the invisible than the visible. Emma was absolutely trapped in the mindset anorexia had created for her and the power to stop was stripped from her hands the moment it had begun creeping into her life. There had been a girl in his Spanish class a few years back who had clearly been sick. She had been so painfully thin and he hadn't done anything because he assumed she brought it upon herself so she could take it away. _The hell she must have been going through as I stood up there conjugating verbs completely oblivious as I took something that has so many dimensions and like the rest of the world condensed it into one. A simple desire to be thin._

Kristen's next inquiry about what had been going through Emma's mind the night he had found her eating out of the trash bag was an answer he was both interested to know and scared of at the same time. His fascination with the floor began as soon as he heard her mention his name. For some reason he was embarrassed.

He missed the inner war Emma was waging against herself when his world suddenly narrowed as Kristen asked him to recount his version of what had happened. _Why do I have to do this? I really don't want to this. _He tried to convey that message as he looked up at the woman and he succeeded in doing so, he also had only gotten a nod that clearly meant he had to go through with what she asked him to. Taking a deep breath and hoping to death that he wouldn't somehow make Emma mad he began not daring to look at her once the words started leaving his mouth.

"I've always been a light sleeper. I woke up to the sound of the door to the apartment closing and since Emma wasn't beside me that left only one illogical conclusion. I went out into the living room moving the blinds slightly trying to figure out what she was doing outside. There was a street lamp that offered just enough light for me to make out that she was walking towards the dumpster with a trash bag. I tried to convince myself that maybe she took her trash out in the early morning hours but I knew that wasn't the case. I didn't know what the case was but I knew that wasn't it. Before she came back inside I ran back barely having time to jump under the covers to pretend to be asleep. At some point I did fall into a restless sleep altering between asleep and not asleep. Sounds from the kitchen woke me up the second time and I slowly walked down the hallway standing so I could see Emma. I wasn't sure what she was doing but I could see a trash bag so I thought maybe she was cleaning. She changed her position and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There were wrappers everywhere and she was eating cookies so fast that large portions weren't even staying in her mouth. My mind produced the conclusion of an eating disorder before I was ready to accept it. I made my way towards and in a motion I now see the sheer stupidity of tried to take the cookies out of her hand. Her scream as she jumped back against the wall caused me to jump. I started to crawl towards her telling her that I wouldn't try to take them away, asking her if she could hear me, telling her who I was. I could tell she had no idea I was even there. I had no idea what was going on. I had no idea what to do. When she started to cry I was able to hold her and I tried to tell her that it would be okay, telling her to match her breaths with mine. I grabbed her wrists when she started trying to get away. That's when I realized she was talking to herself. The words coming out of her mouth were so harsh, so degrading, so hatred in her voice was so…real. She made a comment about no one ever being able to love someone as crazy and fucked up as she was. I was going to stay quiet until she said that. I told her I loved her. She mentioned something about having to get it out before she so forcibly broke away from me that I had no chance of holding her back. I didn't move because I still didn't know what to do. I felt completely helpless. The sound of vomiting is what finally got to move. For the second time I couldn't believe what I was seeing. She was forcing herself to throw up and I couldn't fucking move to get to her side. She threw up two more times before I could. I pulled her away actually putting effort into keeping her away. I couldn't think anymore I was so overwhelmed. I tried to tell her to stop, to listen to me but I wasn't getting through. I yelled at her. The scream that filled the air after that I will never forget. She slammed her elbow into my chest but I didn't stop her. I figured that was better than throwing up. I didn't try to stop her as she hit her thigh either until I realized she wasn't going to stop. I told her she was hurting herself. She said that she deserved to be hurt, that she didn't deserve anything better. Eventually she fell asleep in my arms. I stayed awake afraid of what I might find her doing if I allowed myself to fall asleep. When she woke up she ran to the other side of the room telling me that I should go, that I didn't sign up for dealing with someone as crazy as her. I couldn't believe what she was saying. I couldn't believe she really thought that. I asked about her weight and when she told me that it didn't matter whether or not I saw her body because I would run anyways I wondered where I had gone so wrong to make her think that way. I didn't understand why she was so insecure about our relationship. I started to cry when I did see her from a combination of what she was doing to herself and anger over not having noticed. How the hell could I not have noticed? I looked at the number for her and took her to the bedroom. I covered her up and told her she would be okay as I started to cry again. I had no idea what to do. I didn't even know enough to put together symptoms to begin to figure out what she had. I had no idea how to fix her and I couldn't believe that one person could hold have so much hate inside them. I didn't understand how Emma could hate herself so much that she was destroying her body. It was weeks before I was able to admit that she was doing far worse than just destroying her body. She was slowly killing herself and for so fucking long I didn't notice."

Will let out a long sigh as he finished looking over at Emma he noticed that she was in the same position he had been in while she had talked. He wondered if she was embarrassed too. He knew the answer to that she was experiencing the same guilt and shame he had been wallowing in.

Even though Will knew the weight check was coming he was sort of hoping Kristen would forgo it just this once given the emotional hell Emma had just been put through. He had no such luck. Emma panicked when he stood up saying he would be just outside. Inwardly he berated himself for ever thinking Emma would willingly undress in front of anyone other than him. Kristen allowed him to stay in the room with strict orders to not let Emma look at the scale. He had to help her remove her shirt when she stilled half-way through. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what the voice was telling her.

She walked over to the scale easily enough she even got on without hesitating. Will had been prepared to have to coax her step by step. Pressing his foot against the button Kristen had showed him he looked up only to see Emma looking down. Moving quickly he moved her face up to meet his. Her eyes looking over his shoulder before she tried to look down.

Will had wondered whether or not Emma would try to see her weight. Obviously she was not intent on listening to the nutritionists' advice. Thinking for a moment he finally told Emma to close her eyes relieved when she actually did so. They remained closed for what could have only been a second before she again tried to look down. He hadn't been expecting her to do that and was glad that he hadn't looked at the scale yet. He repeated his earlier order his voice still gentle but with a stern edge usually reserved for students.

Will counted to five before glancing down quickly and just as quickly leading Emma off the scale. Telling her she could open her eyes he watched with a sudden surge of sympathy as he watched a painfully thin, emotionally guarded Emma walk towards the pile of clothes she hadn't bothered to fold. _This has to be so mortifying for her. God I feel like a piece of shit. _

He wasn't sure what caused him to realize that if Emma stood up she would be able to read the scale. At first he wasn't going to move to block her view figuring that she was probably too removed from the situation to even think about the possibility but when he saw her body tense as she reached out to grab her pants her intentions were evident. Her face nearly collided with his chest for the second time. He could tell by the thin line her lips were forming that she was becoming annoyed. Normally he would have thought her asking him to just tell her what the scale had said was a fairly innocent statement but this time he knew she was trying her one remaining option and that was the only reason her voice sounded so pleading. She was trying to get him to give in, to feel bad. He did feel bad but her ploy wasn't going to work.

"Emma, you know I can't do that." The expression that flickered across her face told him that she had thought it a sure bet that he would tell her. _I'm sorry sweetie. I'm sorry._

Kristen knocked on the door and Emma just sat silently next to him. Figuring that she would have let the poor woman stand out there all day he yelled out that she could come in.

He watched as Emma once again studied the floor. Given how often they had ended up looking at the floor today he decided that this office definitely needed a carpet with an unrealistically complex pattern.

Will was surprised when Emma curled up next to him using his thigh as a pillow. Normally she would never allow herself to appear so vulnerable around a relative stranger. In an attempt to make her feel a little less vulnerable he put his arm on her side.

Thanking Kristen for her time Will somehow managed to get them both back to the waiting room without getting lost. Stopping at the front counter he turned to Emma to see what date would work for the next appointment. She wasn't at his side she was already standing by the door. He didn't want to start this war, not right now. He set up the appointment making a note to ask Emma if it was okay later and another note to actually check her calendar to see if she was telling the truth.

Making his way over to her he placed an arm around her shoulder as they slowly headed in the general direction of his car. He whispered that he was proud of her, that she was strong. He stopped walking and turned to face her as he told her with a confident, unwavering tone that he loved her. She had responded back but not with any sort of passion but rather with a tone that suggested it was a programmed response to a common declaration. He didn't take it personally but he did take whatever the hell that damn voice in her head was telling her personally.

* * *

That night Emma slept fitfully in his arms. The number of times he had been awakened by the jerky motions that were almost convulsive in nature as she sobbed into her pillow was of no real importance. He didn't care if she woke him up every minute of every hour. Every time he would pull her closer into him moving his hand in circles along her back as he alternated between planting soft kisses on her face and whispering words that were as much a comfort to her as they were to him.

* * *

A/N: Apologies for spelling/grammatical errors and all that jazz. Every time I worked on editing it I kept revising it. Hope there is nothing too horrible. I took a break (played with the dogs) for a few hours and came back but it's still hard editing when you know what the line is _supposed_ to say.

...so I'm fairly certain I spent most of my day doing this instead of going to the library and checking out As You Like It and reading the first four acts. I'm also fairly certain I never read any of _The Novel from Hell _either...

Think my teachers would accept this as a valid excuse? Maybe if I showed it to them they would be too traumatized to care that I didn't get all the reading done...looks like tomorrow is going to be Shakespeare (yay) and Lloseph Varga ( I don't care if I butchered his name)


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Okay you guys I screwed something up somewhere (huh, imagine that) and I have been uploading each of these chapters as a document and then going to my stories/edit/add chapter/ blah blah blah. I've been told that I reached my 15 document limit and that i need to convert existing documents to stories/chaptes. I thought they were...so basically I have searched all over the account and have absolutely no idea what to do.

I'm going to feel like an idiot if the solution is as simple as removing a document to make room for more...I was under the impression that would delete the chapter. Maybe not?

...uh help?

On to what was going to be my A/N: I totally had a chapter written out that was fluff and was disgusted with it before I was even done typing it. It seemed so incredibly out of place. There was a teeny tiny bit of angst but after the intensity of chapter fourteen it seemed like the proverbial Great Dane in a breed ring full of chihuahua's. (okay so maybe that is only proverbial at dog shows)

I'm trying to set things up so that they will go out and do something it's just that I don't want it to seem so horribly out of place and I felt it would have been.

Seriously give up on a timeline...it's so not happening. Consider it an amusing quirk of the story.

Thanks for reading my rambling plea for help/real author's note.

**Will's POV**

"Are you afraid she's going to die?" the man opposite him sat calmly his chin resting in his hand his posture completely relaxed as though he had merely asked some mundane thing like what he did for a living. Nothing about him indicated that he had just asked him the hardest question he would ever have to answer.

* * *

It was Will's first therapy session…ever. His life had never really merited such a thing until now. Truthfully he would rather be anywhere than where he was. This waiting room embodied everything that had gone so horribly wrong. This waiting room did nothing but scream at him that if he had noticed sooner he might not be here, that Emma might not be at the point that she is.

He was following Kristen's advice and his promise to set up his own appointment was the only thing that had convinced Emma to let him set one up for her. He neglected the little detail that he was under orders to schedule one of his own anyways.

They had been to quite a few different places and it didn't take long for Will to figure out that Emma was purposely finding something wrong with all of them. She always acted interested but at the last minute turned to him saying that they should look somewhere else before she would start lobbing excuses that became more transparent each time.

Will had finally put his foot down when they had visited this place telling Emma that he was not going to let her back out, that they were going to give this one a shot. She hadn't talked to him for two hours after that. He had scheduled both their individual appointments back to back on the same day. It was undoubtedly a huge chunk out of his evening but it was only once a week and he would gladly hand over five hours straight if it would benefit her.

Emma had protested as he had known she would. She had a whole battery of reasons as to why they should schedule on different days. Will had dodged every one. She had demanded to know what he was going to do for an hour while he waited on her. The stack of ungraded, week-old Spanish quizzes he had waved in front of her face did all the talking for him. She had tried to convince him that they should take separate cars so he could leave after he was done, that he could grade his papers at home. He had told her that he didn't mind grading his papers while waiting on her stating that there were no distractions such as TV to disrupt him. That was true there was always something on TV to keep him from getting his homework done even if he would have never watched it had he not had something more pressing and tedious to do. He didn't like seeing proof that a lesson plan had failed miserably in the form of red ink on white paper. He never did admit to her the real reason he had wanted them to take the same car. He was more than convinced that if Emma drove on her own she would never set foot in the building.

When Will had initially called the receptionist she had informed him that even though it was a first-time session the questions would become heavier towards the end of the hour. She must have been used to people asking why continuing on without pause to explain that it was important the client get a feel for whether or not they could truly talk to the therapist about difficult topics. Will wondered just how heavy these questions were going to be. He hadn't told Emma yet. He wouldn't have gotten her out the door of the house if he had. He needed to tell her, he should tell her, it would be the considerate thing to do but she had seen therapists before and she probably had the drill memorized if not the responses.

He had made sure to schedule his session first. This was probably going to be more emotionally taxing on Emma than it would be on him and he didn't want her to walk out into an empty waiting room. He wanted to be there to comfort her, to tell her it would be okay, to get her to smile.

The card in his hands told him that the person he was going to be bearing his soul to was Dan Blankenau and from the looks of things he had his own personal alphabet soup behind his name. He had tried to figure out what the abbreviations meant but so far the only one he recognized was M.A. for a Master's degree. He was fairly certain the LMPH-CPC that followed did not stand for Love of Musical Performance Heightens –Crap Personal Computer. Inwardly he laughed at his pneumonic it made sense that he would tie music into it but the only thing he had been able to pair with PC was Personal Computer and he called his computer a piece of crap all the time. Still the letters meant the guy was dedicated to his job and willing to put in hard work and long hours. _I'm dedicated to my job. I put in long hours and don't have letters after my name unless you count some of the abbreviations I've seen scrawled on the wall of a bathroom stall. Having a string of titles doesn't mean you are good at what you do._

Will forced himself to stop drawing conclusions about a man he had yet to meet. He knew first-hand how aggravating it was to have people walk through a door thinking they knew everything about you.

Emma was sitting calmly at his side but it was evident that she was anything but. His hand was in her lap as she worried her bottom lip every once in a while glancing about the room like some animal just waiting for the opportune moment to bolt. She had become lost in what he assumed were thoughts leaning more towards the negative than the positive as soon as they had sat down on the overly plush couch. He had attempted to pull her into him just so her side was against his but she had resisted choosing instead to simply hold his hand. Will had tried to engage her in small talk asking about school and what it was she was planning for them to do. He had followed the advice Sue had given him after he had told her about the surreal appointment with Kristen. She had said that they needed to get out, that he should let Emma choose where they would go because Emma needed to feel like they were a "normal" couple. She needed to know that their relationship didn't revolve around her issues. Will had kicked himself after Sue had mentioned that. He had been so wrapped up in working to get her better that he hadn't even considered the idea that Emma might just want to do something as a couple. She had been reluctant telling him that they should just stay home that she was perfectly fine with not going out. There was something behind her voice but he hadn't been able to identify it. It had taken a fair amount of smooth talking on his part to get her to agree and even more to convince her to be the one to choose what they did. In the end she had hesitantly told him that there was an event they could go to this Saturday but she refused to tell him anything about it and the slight gleam in her eyes was showing she was enjoying his frustration at her withholding information. He had gone out of his way after that to try and needle the answer out of her mock-pouting as she turned him down every time. One morning he had even woke her up by planting kisses along her neck until he had accomplished his goal of getting her to moan softly under his ministrations. He had whispered his worn-out question into her ear before returning to his attention to her neck and when she said no as he had expected he jumped out of bed proclaiming that he was going to start breakfast. Her frustrated groan that probably would have been his name if her face hadn't been buried in the pillow left him smiling like an idiot for the rest of the day. Something that did not go unnoticed by Sue who had cornered him asking what kind of new hair gel could possibly keep that town-idiotexpression on his face without break. Her voice held the same mocking tone it always did but there was something in her eyes, a silent recognition that she was no longer just poking fun at him to annoy, a silent recognition of the changing status of their relationship. He had asked Sue once why she hadn't confronted Emma herself. He wasn't quite sure what to respond with when she had quietly revealed that when she looked at Emma it was like being transported back to a time she wasn't ready to deal with yet and that talking to the younger woman would have been like talking to a version of herself she had gone out of her way to ignore, out of her way to forget.

Seeing Emma like this, emotionally removed from her surroundings only drudged up memories of the torturous appointment with Kristen. He absolutely could not rationalize away his guilt at everything he had put her through that day, of everything she had been forced to endure because of him. There had been a point that night when he had stopped trying to sleep knowing that Emma would soon be crying again. His heart broke a little more and his guilt increased ten-fold with every kiss, every word of comfort he tried to offer for something he could do nothing other than blame himself for.

As important as it was for Emma to go to that appointment he couldn't shake the image of her bending down to pick up her clothes. He had felt like the biggest louse as he blocked her every attempt to see her weight, as he had out right refused to answer her question which to him had only seemed like one more betrayal to add to an ever-growing heap. He stood behind her grimacing for the first time as he was actually able to study her body without the fear of her noticing. Even though she probably knew what he was doing there was nothing she could do to prevent it at that moment. His eyes widened as he had exhaled through his nose. Her shoulder blades were protruding sharply and as she reached down they moved only to reveal more of her ribs underneath. He very distinctly remembered grimly thinking that this was one more thing he hadn't noticed the severity of. He could count her ribs and he was staring at her back. He could count her vertebrae even the small ones that went up her neck and her thighs were the same size all the way up. He should have noticed how skinny she really was even if she did wear baggy clothes. That was no excuse.

It was during those moments that he had wanted nothing more than to pick her up and get her the hell out of the place that was causing her so much anguish. The place he had drug her into to begin with. He wanted to envelope her In a strong embrace and whisper how sorry he was how much he loved her. He hated to see Emma in pain and in that one hour he felt he had caused more pain than he had when he walked out after their argument.

As he listened to her answer questions that only ensured her reliving excruciating snippets of her life that even he wanted to forget it had taken everything inside of him to not tell Kristen off for putting Emma on the spot like she had. He wanted to protect her and this was as far from the definition of protection as he could get. Sitting there he had actually been able to picture holding Emma against her will in front of his body to take a bullet that had been meant for him and he knew the onslaught wasn't going to stop anytime soon. They would be hurtling his direction every week and every week he would be unable to do anything but place her directly in the line of fire.

Will wanted this all to just be over to find some magical fix that would take everything away, wash it away with the rain as though it had never stagnated into a puddle to begin with. They were taking the right steps. He was taking the right steps and Emma was following along. She was more willing to open up about some things but he questioned whether or not she would be doing this if he wasn't there nudging her along. That was a concept he never wanted to think about but he always did. It wasn't something he should need to even contemplate because he was here and she was slowly moving forward ergo the situation did not exist. If she wasn't going to work on this, if he wasn't around would his coaxing one day prove to not be enough? He didn't want to think about either. Behind that thought lying dormant were dangers that he wouldn't be able to save her from. Not if her mind convinced her that he was only sabotaging the one thing that was maintaining order in her life.

Forcing himself to focus on something in the present he glanced at Emma again. Her grip on his hand had not lessoned and her lip was still trapped by a nervous habit. It seemed that he was forever going to be dragging her into situations she wanted nothing to do with. _I'm sorry._

_

* * *

_

**Emma's POV**

Another therapist, another session, another drawn out recounting of details they would never be let alone. This was going to be her third therapist. Sometimes she thought about the sheer absurdity of a guidance counselor going to weekly therapy. If only the students knew the person they went to for advice was going to sessions stigmatized by society's view of mental health problems.

She had tried everything in her power to get Will to schedule their appointments on different days. Every single one had fallen flat. Emma would never admit it but if she had been able to convince him to take different cars, to go on two different days than she would be able to simply call with an excuse and not show up. The man beside her was the driving force behind her even sitting in this waiting room. Everything she was doing she was doing for him because somewhere along the way her mind had not so kindly informed her that one day he would leave. That one day he wouldn't be able to take anymore. Will was the best thing that had ever entered her life and she wasn't going to be the reason he walked out of it.

Emma had never had good luck with therapists. It was all fine and dandy to talk through things for an hour make promises that she knew full well she would drop at the door on her way out. There was no way they would ever know. They, in sixty minutes were trying to fix something that had taken years to become a problem. Maybe she had just had bad luck, maybe there really were some excellent therapists out there. She certainly hadn't found them.

The first one had started out working with her on her obsessive-compulsive habits and she had been supportive of every small thing Emma did. It wasn't long before that support had morphed into snide remarks that Emma would never overcome the disorder that caused her to do ludicrous things like sort the green grapes from the purple ones. Emma had made the mistake of attending one more session after that trying to tell herself that the outburst might have been the byproduct of a particularly stressful today after all Emma had no idea what was going on in this woman's life. Emma had all but ran from the small office in tears because after an hour of hearing how absolutely hopeless you are, how pitiful anyone who sought out therapy was and how they were deluding themselves into thinking they could overcome whatever problem they had with a few one hour sessions that was all she had been capable of doing.

Her second therapist Coleen, had seemed nice enough at first but a few meetings had shown Emma that perhaps the woman on the other side of the desk needed counseling more than she did. There were little things that didn't make sense. On more than one occasion she had noticed that Coleen had been wearing two different earrings one gold and the other silver and she was definitely not eccentric enough to have done it on purpose. The only person Emma had ever known who had been able to get away with anything like that was a beloved high school teacher who would do absolutely crazy yet endearing things like walk around the room blowing bubbles on everyone before a test saying "May the fates smile upon you, fair child." She still smiled fondly as she remembered the second to last day of class where Mrs. Hayes had allowed everyone to get into a giant paper ball fight. Mrs. Hayes had originally intended to have each class pick up after themselves but she decided it would be more fun to see just how much paper accumulated by the end of the day.

One the last day of class she had shown a portion of The Dead Poets Society where Robin Williams had shocked his students by having them stand upon his desk to "view the world differently after they left this classroom." Every student had stood on top of Mrs. Hayes desk that day as she had yelled with barely contained laughter that they had damn well better not knock over her computer before her voice turned into a serious tone no one had ever heard as she told everyone to never look at the world the same, to always be open to change. Emma still thought about that woman. She was proof that someone could choose to be whoever they wanted to be and not care what people thought. Even in high school that teacher was the embodiment of everything Emma wanted to be and everything she knew she never would be all at once. That one comment though, that everyone should be open to change, that had stayed with her. She thought about it constantly and those words often prompted her to alter little things about her routine even if it was only for one day.

It was the "Jesus Incident" as she referred to it in her mind that had made her leave Coleen in the proverbial dust. For more than half an hour Emma had listened distantly as Coleen seeming quoted a ninety-nine cent self-help book about how the anger inside her needed to be dealt with before it oozed into every aspect of her life. Coleen had begun talking about an argument she had gotten into with her husband as an example, telling about how frustrated she felt with the whole situation. It was when she said that Jesus had appeared behind her husband and made a funny face that instantly defused her feelings of malice that had left Emma wanting to burst out laughing. She thought the woman was joking but when she looked up Coleen's facial expression was serious. Emma could handle a lot of things but a therapist who talked of Jesus sightings was not one of them. She never did schedule another appointment.

By her logic her reluctance to go see this Dan Blankenau, Licensed Mental Health Practitioner-Certified Professional Counselor were completely justified.

The man that an hour earlier had come to retrieve Will was now walking towards her with a smile. Will was at his side also smiling but there was the slightest hint that it was forced. He sat down and gently squeezed her knee before whispering that he was really nice, that she would like him. _Right. _

Emma followed him back to a corner office the lighting dim in an attempt to create a relaxed atmosphere. At her first session so many years ago that had been a comfort but now she was just annoyed by it. Did they really think that softly-lit rooms were going to make their relentless probing into private thoughts any more bearable?

Emma watched with narrowed eyes as Dan sat in a couch identical to the one she now occupied one dark brown table between them nicely straightened so that for once she wasn't forced to reach out and reposition it.

Dan must have noticed the direction of her gaze.

"Will moved it for you." Emma felt a rush of love towards the man who was probably grading papers in the waiting room. She knew the gesture had been done both as a way for him to comfort her without actually being there and as a small joke. He was always chiding her about straightening the tables in the lunchroom but he always helped even if she did go behind him and redo every table he moved.

"What are you smiling about?" he had a surprisingly gentle voice, soft, too soft now that she thought about it. There must be something wrong, some sort of health condition but it was relaxing none the less.

Emma answered without even thinking about it.

"I always straighten the tables in the lunchroom before school starts and even though he teases me about it he always helps. One day he purposefully got to the school before me and angled each one of them so that they were crooked. When I walked in he was perched on top of a table that was right in the center of the room with a boyish smirk on his face. He attempted to act like nothing was out of the ordinary but Will is horrible at acting and even worse at trying to hold back laughter. He helped me straighten them that day too."

"He seems like a great guy."

"He is, he's always doing something to get me to laugh and he's always there telling me it's okay when I have to do something that terrifies me." _Oh crap, way to open up a door Emma._

"What kind of things? What has he helped you to do?"

Emma remained silent berating herself for adding that last bit on to her answer. If she hadn't done that he would have probably asked about some of Will's other antics and that she was comfortable discussing. This however, this had been the direction she had intended to steer away from him and within five minutes she was heading straight for it.

Dan never said anything and although remembered reading somewhere that the average person could not stand more than seven seconds of silence she decided to break it anyways. This was what she was here for as much as she wanted to deny it. She was here to fix a problem in her life that was threatening to take everything away from her, threatening to take Will away from her.

"Eating mostly." She purposefully kept her answer short wanting to put more of the work on Dan's shoulders so she would have more time to think about what his next question might be and more importantly what her response would be. She knew how to play this game.

"Eating things other than oatmeal you mean."

That was definitely not in her list of possible scenarios. It had never occurred to her that he might draw on knowledge that Will had imparted to him. She had completely forgotten she had given Will the okay to tell this man that whatever he talked about was fair game for Emma's session.

Dan pressed on while Emma was still pondering how to respond. His hushed voice inquiring why oatmeal was the one food she thought was safe, how it had become the one food she thought was safe.

Emma actually had to think about that one. These questions weren't so bad, they were bordering on innocent and she wasn't having to reveal anything more than what he probably already knew. She watched as he scribbled a few things down as she told him that oatmeal had started out as an easy breakfast something quick to fix that wouldn't take too much time. Time was a precious commodity in the mornings it allowed her to complete her other more important routines. She left her minds' slow descent into calling her fat as how the voice intensified moving on to talk about how one day she had thought oatmeal would be an easy lunch too, one that she didn't have to put any effort into.

"Eventually it just became what I did. Oatmeal for breakfast, lunch and dinner with the occasional bowl in between, I never saw anything wrong with my behavior. Like everything else in my life it was just something unique to me."

"Would you ever consider eating something outside of oatmeal?" Emma wanted to laugh. Now he was foraying into the world of "Sure I'll promise to do that until I walk out the door."

"Maybe, I have been working on it. I'm seeing a nutritionist and although we only met once she devised a sort of impromptu meal plan saying that I had to have fruit with my oatmeal at breakfast as well as some form of protein. I'm terrified of meat so that is the hardest part."

"If Will wasn't there to make sure that you followed your meal plan would you go back to oatmeal?"

Emma had thought about this before. Part of her whispered that she should be disgusted with the conclusion she always came to as the voice cheered her on. She knew without a doubt that if Will wasn't there to place the different foods in front of her that she would never in her wildest dreams think of doing it herself. She would go right back to her half-cup of oatmeal three times a day and she was still at a place now where the idea was something she fanaticized about. Dan must have accepted her silence and interpreted it for what it was.

"Have you ever just eaten oatmeal when Will was gone for the day?"

She didn't want to answer this one either. She didn't want to admit to this man or herself that she had gone behind Will's back, undermined his intentions that were only rooted in concern for her health even when didn't understand why he was so preoccupied with the matter.

"He was gone for a workshop with the Glee kids. I went out of my way to make it look like I had eaten more than just oatmeal."

"What did you do?"

"I grabbed some fruit out of the fridge and sliced it over a bowl making sure to leave seeds and juice before I put the pieces in a bag to take out to the trash before he got home. I removed one piece of bologna, one piece of cheese and two slices of bread and threw those in the bag too. Before I threw the bread away I squeezed it in my hand over a plate so that it looked like there had actually been a sandwich there. When he asked what I had eaten everything I told him was a lie except that I really had eaten oatmeal. He just didn't know it was for every meal."

"Do you think he ever found out?"

"He would have said something if he had. I made sure I buried the bag in the dumpster and it was small so there is no way he would have noticed it unless he went dumpster-diving."

The thought of Will diving head-long into a dumpster did make her smile slightly despite what she was saying. She was gradually relaxing in Dan's presence. So far he hadn't mentioned any Jesus sightings. His questions had remained serious yet innocent at the same time. Emma never felt like she had to defend her comments a concept she was not familiar with. There was not one note of anything but a gentle kindness in his voice. She never felt that what she was saying was inadequate and it was he never let on. It was almost like she was in control of everything the only exception being that he was the one doing the interrogation.

There time was almost up and Dan wrote down some more things before he looked up at her again, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose.

"Do you ever wonder how much he worries about you?"

Emma tensed. This question wasn't innocent. She had to tread carefully to negotiate this entanglement. Occasionally she tried to put herself in Will's shoes but she had never really been able to do it. She could not see herself through someone else's eyes. She couldn't see herself from the outside looking in. Will was worried that was obvious but aside from the appointment with Kristen he hadn't ever really talked about it.

"I don't think he's really all that worried. He's concerned I think but it's misguided. I'm really not as bad as he thinks I am. It's not like I'm in danger of dropping dead any second." Emma had chuckled with her last statement the asinine idea of such a thing too out there to ignore.

Dan hadn't said anything other than glancing at the clock and with a warm smile informing her that their time was up and that she should go see if Will got his papers graded saying that he had mentioned something about finding reasons to not grade them as he had walked out the door. Emma smiled, that was Will.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Whispering that he would be back in an hour before kissing Emma on the cheek Will got up to meet the man that he could tell by his directed smile was Dan Alphabet Soup as he had come to call him. The little inner joke helped to lighten the mood.

Will politely shook his hand as Dan introduced himself sans alphabet soup and led Will back to his corner office. The lighting was dim and two comfortable looking couches with a table between them were nicely placed in the middle of the room, well the couches were centered, the table wasn't. All in all Will found the environment relaxing which he supposed was what the man now sitting across from him had been aiming for.

He had absolutely no idea what to say.

"So I was trying to break the code behind your name but I'm pretty sure Love of Musical Performance Heightens-Crap Personal Computer isn't the correct key to the code. _Did I just say that? He has to think I'm an idiot. Could I fit under the couch?_

"I realize it makes no sense, I couldn't think of anything else for H and I consistently call my computer a piece of crap so…" _Oh god just shut up!_

The carpet in this room was far more conducive to verbal idiocy-induced studying than Kristen's had been. At least this one had little swirly patterns.

"Licensed Mental Health Practitioner-Certified Professional Counselor actually but I like yours better. I wonder if I can change it." Will laughed relieved that the man hadn't been offended. His voice was soft, hoarse yet gentle.

"May I ask what made you think of musical performance?"

Will could feel the smile that spread across his face, "I'm the Glee club director at the local public high school. Singing and dancing are my life…that and teaching kids who could care less a about foreign language. The only Spanish they take with them when they leave that classroom at the end of the year are the swear words they walked in with." He deadpanned.

"I was in show choir in high school, sang in the community choir until the arthritis started to affect my lungs. I know. I had no idea that could happen either."

Will tried to imagine what his life would be like if he gradually lost his ability to sing. That would be a lot worse than abruptly losing it he was sure. To be aware of what was going to happen and being unable to do anything about it would be such a helpless feeling. He felt nothing but sympathy for the man before him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay, I've gotten used to it. Besides my voice being as soft as it is has defused many a tense situation. It's amazing how quickly people calm down when they aren't being yelled back at."

Chuckling Will absorbed the information. There was a point there and it was one he often tried to abide by it but more often than not failed miserably. He was officially very at ease with Dan; the man was funny, sincere and obviously had a knack for working with people. Really he should probably take notes and apply some of it to his students. Will laughed when he thought about taking notes about Dan's technique as he took notes of his answers.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking about how I should take notes and use some of this finesse you have on my students when I noticed that you are going to be taking notes as well. It struck me as amusing the client taking notes about the therapist as the therapist takes notes about the client, notes on how they were crazy enough to take notes probably."

Dan laughed again whole-heartedly, an infectious sound that seemed to work its way into every crevice of the room.

The other man stared with curiosity at Will's very meticulous straightening of the table between them but after Will explained that it would be one of the first things Emma did it formed into a knowing smile.

When Dan looked over at him pushing his glasses up Will knew that therapy session numero uno had just begun.

"You must really care about her." Will had no qualms about answering this question the conclusion was simple, ready to fall of the tip of his tongue as soon as he opened his mouth.

"You have no idea. There was so much that kept us apart and now that we are finally together not a day goes by that I don't think about how lucky I am that I have her. That I have Emma."

"She's lucky to have someone like you, someone so supportive, patient." Will blushed lowering his head unable to respond.

"I don't have to ask to know that you have been trying to help her. What have you done so far?" Will took a deep breath. Part of this would be easy and a much larger part would not.

"I constantly tell her I won't leave her, that she won't have to do any of this alone. I don't force her to eat more than she is comfortable with even though I wish sometimes that I could but I don't want to come off as a threat. I worked with her for a while, getting her gradually to eat more. I brought sandwiches to lunch and let her eat them at her own pace. I even matched her pace not wanting to finish before her. I checked out books from the library, read about the disorder, the recovery, read some things that once I learned them I wished I could have unlearned, the relapse rate for example."

"Sounds like you have been a positive fixture in her life."

Will snorted, "You wouldn't say that if you knew the rest of the story."

"Enlighten me."

"I got angry with her one day after I had gone to see a nutritionist…let me back up. I had brought a couple of cartons of milk to her office for lunch and she freaked out, ordered me to set them on the floor where she couldn't see them. She didn't eat as much that day. I talked to a friend who has been through what Emma is experiencing and she explained that when she had been sick milk was something that was the equivalent of liquefied fat, that drinking it would fall under doing something good for herself because everyone always talked about how healthy it was. She said that when you don't believe you are sick you don't see the need to go out of your way to do something healthy. I went home confident that the incident would simply fall by the wayside a minor setback to be dealt with in the future."

"It didn't go away?"

"It did and it didn't. I think it led into what happened later. The next day I made biscuits for breakfast and when she lied and said she didn't feel well, that she was going to call in sick I let her get away with it." Will let a cold tone seep into his voice, "I let her get away with it because I didn't want to tip her off that I could tell when she wasn't being honest."

Dan stopped him then saying that what Will had done was understandable and that even though he couldn't say anything to take away the anger Will harbored for not calling her out he did say that he would have done the same thing. Interpreting the nod for the cue it was Will continued.

"When I came home for lunch I didn't know where she was and it was by chance that I noticed the bathroom door open a few inches. She never leaves the bathroom door open. There was just enough light from the hall that I could see her huddled up on the floor. I left the bathroom light off thinking that maybe it would be easier for her to talk if she couldn't see me but that wasn't the only motive. I didn't want her to see the concern I couldn't wipe off my face. I asked her what was wrong, asked if it was about breakfast. She said she didn't know but that if she continued the way she was everything would be ruined mumbling that small things lead to larger things. That core concept, which unfortunately is true, she had applied to food. Small bits of food here and there were okay but they were also a gateway to larger portions which paved the way to getting fat. I was already starting to get frustrated. I managed to get her into the bedroom before I went back to school and she was still there when I got home. I don't know what happened between then and when I got back but she was a complete mess. I knew I wouldn't be able to calm her down; she was murmuring things to herself. She has this way of almost dissociating in these situations, not even realizing I'm there or what she is doing. It's one of the most aggravating things I've ever had to deal with. I remember crying silently sitting against the wall. I didn't know what to do with her and that was the first time I truly allowed myself to accept that. All of the other times that thought crept into my mind I pushed it away coming up with one more plan, one more option. I found pictures in the bathroom she had taken of herself in the mirror. I had read about anorexics doing this so I wasn't overly concerned until I saw the last one. The words," Will paused; he didn't want to say this. It seemed so personal, "fat bitch" were written in red marker across her stomach I went back and lifted up her shirt and under that was "worthless failure." I held her, tried to tell her those things weren't true but I know she didn't hear me."

Will never really felt like everyone said you were supposed to feel when you got things off your chest. He never felt like a burden had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. To him it always felt like the burden only increased and that every step he took only left him closer to collapsing under the weight.

"You mentioned something about a nutritionist." _Great here we go again._

Trying to spare himself another bout of verbal torture Will glossed over the events of not only his appointment but the one he and Emma had attended as well. Mentioning what he thought was important and leaving out the rest. Of course a therapist would sift through his words and in a matter of seconds locate the one thing he had very intentionally given wide berth.

"How were you feeling during all of this?"

"I…I…felt like the biggest piece of shit, or as Emma would say a steaming pile of excrement. I know how horrible that whole ordeal must have been for her and I was the one that brought her into it. I wanted to just get her out of there, to apologize, to tell her I loved her. I wanted to give in and tell her what the scale said. I know it was necessary but that doesn't change what I feel, the guilt, the hatred. We still haven't discussed anything that took place. We keep skirting around it never quite allowing it to rise to the surface. I know we need to talk about it but I am so worried that she will retaliate with anger because of what I put her through and as far as I'm concerned she has every right to do so."

Will backtracked once again he had to say this. If anything this would convey to Dan how much of a horrible person he felt he was. How horrible he had been to Emma.

"We had a fight the day I had the appointment with Kristen. I came home to find her trying to throw up in the bathroom. I was a mile beyond frustrated before I even began to ask her what had happened. When she told me it didn't matter, I told her that I couldn't help her unless she wanted to be helped. She yelled at met then, saying I would never understand what she was going through. Everything just snowballed from there until I finally told her that I couldn't do this, not that night. I walked out leaving her on the floor. I stayed at a motel. I took one step into the that room and dropped to the ground. I haven't cried like that since I was a kid. I haven't cried and actually sobbed out loud since I was a kid. It's almost degrading to do something like that after years of being told it's not appropriate behavior adult men. I've always been emotional but that…it helped I guess but it's embarrassing."

"Did you hate yourself this much before all of this started?"

Dan didn't need to clarify what he was alluding to. He had never even considered that but now that he was he was dumbfounded by the conclusion he came to. Like everyone he had a small amount of self-hatred that was more noticeable some days than other days but it hadn't ever been this intense. Not for such a continuous stretch of time.

"No…"he trailed off no way to finish that statement came to mind.

"I'm guessing, and that's all I'm doing, that it might be that nothing in your life has left you feeling this scared, this helpless. You're backed into a corner and everything you have been trying to do is blowing up in your face. You care about this woman so much that even when what you do is in her best interest if it in any way causes her discomfort you feel responsible. There is a lot of hatred that accompanies putting someone through something unpleasant even if it is the right thing to do. Be careful Will. Emma doesn't need you spiraling down the path she has. You haven't done anything wrong."

Will did not agree with that statement in the least. He had done a million things wrong and it had all started when he didn't notice what was happening right before him. The list began that night they had been on the couch when he had put down feeling her ribs as a result of her being sick even though he knew she had been lying.

"You mentioned that Kristen started Emma on a meal plan. Do you think she would stick to it if you weren't around?" Will was starting to understand the definition of "heavy."

"No, I know she wouldn't. I was gone from about six in the morning until eight at night one Saturday for a workshop with the kids a few hours away and I know she lied when I asked what she ate."

"And How do you know that?"

"The first clue was that she wouldn't look me in the eye. The second was that there were dirty dishes in the sink. Emma can't stand to have dirty dishes in the sink and if she does have to leave any she rinses them off first. These weren't rinsed off. The third was something I had devised. It had occurred to me the night before. I put my phone on vibrate and left it in the pocket of my sweatpants an alarm set for three in the morning. I had to be gone by five which meant Emma would be up at four. I measured out one half-cup of oatmeal and with a pencil made a small hash mark before pouring it back in. The oatmeal was too far below that mark for her to have only eaten it for breakfast. I haven't brought that up either."

Dan casually asked Will if it bothered him that he had been that secretive, that he hadn't just trusted Emma to stick to the plan. Of course it bothered him but he knew that the first chance she got she would run right back to her old habits because they had been a part of her routine for so long. Briefly Will touched on the emphasis Emma placed on routines how they were a byproduct of her OCD but that he believed they brought her some measure of safety, some aspect of control. Looking at the clock again Will noticed that they only had ten minutes left. _Just ten more minutes, it can't get any worse than admitting how much I have hurt the woman I love._

"Will."

Will grimaced there was a seriousness behind that one word that he didn't like the sound of.

"Are you afraid she's going to die?" the man opposite him sat calmly his chin resting in his hand his posture completely relaxed as though he had merely asked some mundane thing like what he did for a living. Nothing about him indicated that he had just asked the hardest question he would ever have to answer.

He dropped his eyes to the floor fixating them on everything and nothing. He studied the carpet, his shoes, his hands, his jeans, anything to possibly lengthen this out just enough. Ten minutes to be exact.

Dan's gaze was boring a hole into the top of his head, he could feel it. He wasn't going to get out of here without saying something. If he said it out loud, if he said it in the present tense than it would no longer be a concern he could push into the past. He had chosen his wording carefully in Kristen's office. His use of the world "was" instead of "is" had been intentional. If he answered what Dan was asking it would be a concern of the present and then there would be no away around it.

"I'm afraid of what she's doing to herself. I'm afraid that one day I won't be enough to pull her out of this." Will was content with that answer he had successfully maneuvered his way out of the little trap Dan had set for him. Riding the fence was the perfect compromise; Dan got an indirect answer while he was able to avoid giving a direct one.

"So you are afraid she is going to die?" Desperately Will looked at the clock. Only two minutes had gone by. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to smash that clock.

He hated Dan right now. He hated that he had obviously seen through what Will thought was an acceptable answer, what he thought had been a skillful side-step. Not only had Dan seen through his answer he had peppered it with bullets until the only scrap remaining was the one thing he didn't voice. The unspoken truth buried in the spoken one.

Will didn't make any attempt to speak his mind racing in circles around one word. He didn't look up as he let his shoulders droop. He didn't look up as he propped an elbow on his knee allowing his forehead to fall into the palm of his hand. He didn't look up as he started to feel the tears forming and his attempt to blink them away only caused them to slide down his cheeks. He didn't have to see himself to know that he looked every bit as broken as he felt.

He had been expecting his voice to betray him like it so often chose to do but what came out of his mouth was cold, harsh, with the faintest hint of a dark undertone that only served to indicate how much he hated to answer this question, how afraid he was of the answer to this question. How much he didn't want to believe the words his lips formed without his consent.

"Yes I'm afraid she's going to die. I'm afraid that this thing will kill her right in front of me and that the only-"his voice cracked and he pursed his lips together in an attempt to hold back a rough sob turning his face upwards to stare at the ceiling his unfinished statement hanging in the air as he fought to regain control of his emotions, "that the only goddamn thing I will be able to do is watch."

* * *

A/N: refer to above author's note lol! Thank you! What the heck did I do wrong and how the heck do I fix it? Really I want to wallow in my stupidity lol.


	16. Chapter 16

**Serious A/N here: **My updates are probably going to become a bit slower in the near future. The bank has kindly informed us that they are not going to inform us before they basically lock us out of my mom's house so we are scrambling to get stuff out...like my grandpa is bringing a stock trailer down scrambling. I'm thirty miles away and making more trips than I care to count.

I literally spent all of today writing because I needed some sort of release from all the tension trying to get stuff out last night. As always I apologize for errors. I was up until 3am (I'm a neat freak) unpacking, repacking, rearragning the limited amount of free space I have...and I'm proud to say all of that and four 40 pound dog food bags of trash later my living room no longer looks like it's out of a Hoarder's episode...just don't look in the closets...

I'm always scribbling down things to write so I will have plots its just finding the time to get them to the computer between this crap...and classes.

All of the above is why you guys aren't getting my long alluded to (yet not forgotten) fluff chapter. I seriously could not get in the mindset to write one when my life is anything but.

Thank you for your patience and wonderful reviews and for those of you who PM'ed me you made my day:)

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Will's POV**

Emma was sleeping peacefully at his side.

Will hadn't even closed his eyes.

His earlier logic about the therapy session being more upsetting for Emma than him had been slightly more than flawed. To emphasize his error in judgment was a mountain of Spanish papers a day over a week old that remained slightly less than not graded.

Will's mind refused to do anything but replay Dan's question on and endless loop devising a million different ways he could have answered without saying what he did. There had never been a time in his life where he had wished so whole-heartedly that he could change the past. Maybe if he could go back say anything but what he did he wouldn't be laying here right now reluctantly admitting just how serious her situation was. _Not her situation, our situation._

_Do I really think she is in danger of dying? Maybe it was just a byproduct of being in such an emotional situation to begin with. Maybe…maybe I need to stop this charade and allow myself to accept my answer for what it really means._

At some point Emma had rolled over her head burrowing into his chest and he couldn't resist placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"You'll be okay….I'll be okay…We'll be okay."

Taking a deep breath he resigned himself to the fact that he really did need to get some sleep. They had school tomorrow and he had Spanish papers to not hand back. He was behind on a lot of things. Sectionals weren't too far off and he had resorted to having the kids collaborate on songs and then run them by him. So far they had chosen some pretty good ones and he had noted with no small amount of satisfaction some of them were older, classic show tunes.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

She wasn't asleep and she could tell that Will wasn't either. The tension in his body told her that he had been wide awake for every second of the two hours they had been in bed. She had absolutely no intention of letting on that the same was true for her. The feeling of his lips startled her and she was surprised she hadn't jumped. It was plainly obvious to Emma that his words were directed only at himself and the tone in his voice conveyed just how much effort he was putting into believing them.

* * *

There was nothing apparent in Will's behavior that was out of the ordinary this morning and Emma had been watching him like a hawk. She wanted to know what those words meant but so far he hadn't mentioned anything even remotely close to the topic and she definitely wasn't going to let him know that she had been privy to such a private moment.

"Earth to Emma, couple small pancakes and some plain, soy yogurt with strawberries okay?" She knew no response was necessary. She knew it wasn't a question.

It made zero sense even to her but carbohydrates were easier for her to handle than the idea of protein. She knew that they were what everyone stayed away from when on diets, that they were the first thing people were told to cut back on but there was a small element of safety in carbohydrates. By her reasoning this could only be traced back to the high levels of carbohydrates in oatmeal which then linked back to carbohydrates being acceptable for now at least. Her adversity to protein meant that Will was having to come up with increasingly creative ways to slip it into her diet and although she knew this it was okay because it wasn't meat. Meat ranked right up there milk and so far no one had been able to knock it down a few notches, not even Will.

Emma wasn't even going to allot five minutes to try and figure out why the mere sight of a carton of milk in the fridge made her skin crawl but plain, soy yogurt with fruit was something that even though it took her quite a while she could work her way through. The disorder in her mind paralleled the disorder in her life.

Will carefully set the plate in front of her the pancakes as he had mentioned were small. _Two small pancakes only equates into a larger one. He's fooling you, trying to get you fat and what's worse, you're letting him get away with it because you think he really cares._

Will had silently taken his seat across from her and as was unwritten protocol was not watching only looking up during conversation and even then never moving his eyes from her face. She always stopped eating when he addressed her not because she had something to add but because she didn't want him to see her take a bite, didn't want him to see her chew and swallow food. Inwardly she figured that was why he was relatively quiet during meals.

Emma stole many glances at Will's plate. He was eating more than her now but he was still making an effort to not finish before her and if he did he would get up and wash his dishes in the sink. He knew that she didn't like him sitting there while she was still poking at her food. If she still wasn't done he would find something else to do around the kitchen never leaving the room and never allowing his back to be turned for long periods of time. He would find clever ways to stand so that his side was towards her ensuring that he could steal glances. Emma was well aware that the things he would often find to do didn't need to be done. He didn't trust her not to hide the food. She couldn't blame him, not when the temptation was still so strong. It had lessoned considerably but it was definitely still present.

* * *

Listening to the sound of her shoes as she walked the deserted halls of Mckinnely high was hypnotic in a way. She had taken her car and left earlier than Will using an ill-thought out excuse about having to organize a drawer. He had stared at her momentarily before smiling and making a crack about how one day when she wasn't there he was going to move everything around in her office. Her attempt at a withering glare had turned into a small smile. Even though she would hate him, it was Will and she would overlook his transgression in a heartbeat. Then proceed to give him no choice in the matter on whether or not he helped to put everything back. She would also make sure to enact her revenge by making him redo things until even he regretted his little joke.

In the sanctuary of her office she could break apart Will's words she had heard the night before into small fragments mentally rearranging them until they clicked together, until she figured out their meaning. Every once in a while something would fit but inevitably the other pieces never would agree. It was like a jigsaw puzzle, like staring at two pieces that you were certain fit together but instead of accepting that they didn't on the first try you just kept going until by the end of the fifth or sixth attempt you were pulling at straws borderline forcing them together as you told yourself that one of them had been cut wrong at the factory. These pieces weren't really a jigsaw puzzle. They lacked two important criteria. Jigsaw puzzles were tangible with only one possible combination. The fragments in her mind were untouchable and had an infinite amount of possibilities lurking within them.

In the end she had given up. A few ideas had floated through her mind. Maybe he was just expressing out loud the worry he worked so hard to keep to himself. Maybe he had said the words before but she had actually been asleep so she had never heard them. For all she knew it could be something he did every night. Maybe he was just acknowledging her laggard steps in the name of progress.

A ring-tone that translated into Will disrupted her world of maybe's. She had to hold back a laugh at his frenzied tone as he desperately asked if he knew where a tie, any tie was. After chastising him about not keeping up with his plan to start actually putting them away she led him on for a bit before informing him that she had absolutely no idea. In the right context hearing him swear was one of the greater joys in life. The sudden disappearance of background noise told her he had hung up on her. Emma leaned back in her chair as a quiet giggle chased away the silence around her.

* * *

Mornings always seemed to betray Emma flying by much faster than the afternoons and dragging behind them fifty minutes that seemed all too willing to completely derail the rest of her day.

Idly she wondered what Will would bring along this time. He per Kristen's suggestion had taken over planning all of her meals under the agreement that he would ensure she stuck to the meal plan with at least a ninety-percent success rate. The knowledge that she had the choice of backing out even if it was a limited choice made it a little bit easier to accept what was happening to her diet. The changes still terrified her and the fact that they were just beginning, that this was the first day of gradual altercations that would only lead to one thing didn't help reinforced the feeling. Emma grimaced she hated it when she used that turn of phrase. It was impossible to reinforce an emotion that was innately a bad experience. It was like a dog being afraid of thunder. The dog is already afraid, the dog doesn't like being afraid so there is no way even when you comfort the dog that you are reinforcing the fear.

Sandwiches were the norm. It was what accompanied them that was always being tweaked. One day it might be fruit while the next it was some sort of raw or canned vegetable. The stares he must get warming up a bowl of green beans in the faculty microwave were probably staying just barely on the edges of extremely awkward. Whatever he endured in the lunchroom he always slipped through her door with a smile on his face which only grew when he successfully set everything down without spilling it everywhere. He had mentioned more than once how proud he was of himself for not dropping anything on the way over. His troubled expression when Emma jokingly told him that now he was bound to do just that had been priceless.

Emma hadn't noticed that Will was now sitting in front of with a couple dishes in placed neatly on a towel he had spread over her desk.

"Hey you." Will snapped his fingers inches from her nose.

"Have you accomplished anything today? Every time I've seen you you've been searching for a new ninth planet."

Emma had to laugh at that. Will was still perturbed that Pluto had been demoted from its past planetary status. She had once told him that there were other wanna-be planets out there just waiting to be discovered because if there wasn't it was an awful waste of space. Will had been impressed with her wordplay. This exchange had taken place weeks ago. She really didn't feel the need to confess that she had shamelessly hijacked the line from a science-fiction movie.

Peering down her nose she could tell that there were indeed sandwiches and something unidentifiable in a large green bowl. He opened the bag handing her brown creamy calories covered in purple sticky calories squished between two slices of whole-wheat calories. Referring to things in terms of calories had become a habit long ago and occasionally she still slipped back into it especially when she was a bit afraid of what she was about to ingest. She had eaten peanut butter and jelly before and it hadn't killed her she could do it again. _Right…yeah that's it tell yourself you can get away with it. Conveniently neglect the part about how all those calories add up and how many of them are merely fat. I hope you enjoy the feeling of your stomach pressing against the waistband of your pants. Eat up. Fail._

Emma pushed on wishing the voice came with a mute button or at least volume control. Carefully she took one small bite. It tasted different, it tasted like…honey?

"I mixed in honey with the peanut butter. My mom used to do it all the time. I loved it as a kid, figured you might like it too." the tiny note of apprehension lurking just beneath the surface of his good-natured comment was evident.

She wasn't sure what to do. Will was supposed to do this, he was supposed to slowly supplement different things into what she ate but she hadn't been expecting him to start so quickly and with honey? Even before her disorder the only thing she could ever recall using the stuff on was cream of wheat when her dad had been forced to conjure something that usually wouldn't fall under the classification of breakfast. One time he had even made grilled cheese with a plastic spatula which of course had melted. He made them eat it anyways.

It wasn't bad. The added ingredient gave the peanut butter a smoother feel and the two flavors did compliment each other. _What the hell are you doing? Stop and analyze that thought. You're saying fat tastes good? You're saying that failure tastes good? You're becoming more pathetic by the day. Ruin your day, what does it matter. Eat up._

Somehow Emma had been able to nibble her way through the sandwich even with the ceaselessly degrading occupant in her mind and somehow she had managed to do it in less than fifty minutes. There was a severely sloped downside to that. The green bowl was now being reached for. She didn't dare to look but the sound of the lid being taken off could have been a gunshot.

She closed her eyes as Will scooped some on to her plate not quite ready to see what it was. It was times like these where she was so thankful that Will was Will, that he would let her take part in such ridiculous behaviors.

Macaroni salad? That explained the squishiness that had made her squirm. _Where did he even learn how to make that? He doesn't cook. _

He was forever one step ahead of her and more often than not that one step was accompanied by a mile.

"Called my mom for the recipe, she was ecstatic. It was all I could do to get her off the phone without her giving me twenty more recipies. Apparently she knew my bachelor-hood ways would end and was purposefully saving them" he finished in a disgustingly cheerful tone that Emma assumed was something akin to that of his mother's.

"I tried to defend myself saying that you wanted it for yourself but she saw right through it. She's probably going to be mailing me recipies every week now." His annoyance was punctuated by a small chuckle.

"Why wouldn't she just call?"

Will rolled his eyes telling her that it was something about her generation and how she preferred the personal touch of sending a letter to the cold, hard communication devices such as phones and email. He commented that he never really understood her fascination with them stating that it wasn't like she hadn't grown up without a phone.

"I agree with her. I love getting letters, notes anything really…" _Why did I say that now he is going to compare me to his mom? _

He appeared to be lost in thought for a couple seconds before nodding his head in the direction of the clock silently informing Emma that she needed to start on the concoction before her.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Weaving his way through throngs of students towards Emma's office he replayed the phone call from his mother. He was positive it had originated from the seventh circle of hell.

At first she had squealed right after he said hello. Years of calling had taught him to say that one word and immediately hold the phone an arm's length. As a music director he really didn't want to go deaf so early in life.

Her rambling about how proud she was that he was starting to "clean up his deplorable college student diet" only cemented his earlier action as he waited impatiently for her to stop occasionally interjecting a non-committal response of some kind so it appeared that he was paying attention.

By the time he actually got the stupid ingredients it had been two hours. It had taken him two hours to obtain five minutes worth of information. _And she wonders why I don't call more._

He had been expecting to have to try at least three times to get it to taste right but it had only taken one. Perhaps he wasn't giving himself enough credit in the cooking department.

Emma was lost in space for what must have been the hundredth time. Every time he had stolen a glance into her office she had that same preoccupied expression. He hoped no students had gone to her for advice she probably wouldn't have been able to follow the topic let alone answer any questions completely.

Snapping his fingers worked just as effectively on her as it did on Finn although admittedly sometimes he had to snap his fingers more than once in the teenager's case. How that kid could possibly space out while everyone else was singing a song at the top of their lungs was a mystery that hinted at more of a fascination. Maybe he should ask about his technique. That would be a wonderful weapon against board meetings.

He didn't push his Pluto comment any further but he wanted to. Emma's threat a few weeks back of kicking him in a strategic location if he so much as began to recount his frustration kept him quiet. The thought of Emma doing such a thing was absurd but it wasn't absurd enough that he was going to risk it.

Will had been growing more nervous as the day progressed about the honey he had mixed with the peanut butter. He hadn't been meaning to use so much but every time he went to put the lid on he heard his mom yelling that he needed more than that in order to actually taste the honey. The little plastic bear he had bought was about half gone and his uncertainty about how Emma would react was the reason the little guy was sitting in a cupboard in the faculty lunchroom. The staff would use it up before she ever saw it.

The voice was definitely hurtling insults at her as she slowly but steadily inched her way closer to the sandwich being nothing more than crumbs on the plate. Will was proud of her. Ever since she had trusted him with some of the things that she put up with in her mind he appreciated the little stuff she accomplished a lot more. Hours had gone by as he had tried to imagine if he could function even half as well as she did with the equivalent of a scratched record looping the same snippets of degradation into infinity. In every one of those contemplations he had come to the same conclusion.

Her amusement over his conversation with his mother had diffused the macaroni salad situation somewhat and she had actually picked her way through that faster than she had the sandwich.

While he detested his mother's love of writing and receiving letters he found it incredibly endearing that Emma liked them so much.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma was running late. At the last minute a student had wandered in complaining of a stomach ache. Emma had politely asked him a variation of "So why the heck are you not whining to the nurse?" only to have him blink at her in confusion. With much effort she hauled down to the office that couldn't have been further away from hers if it had tried. She forced the boy to walk in front of her. To anyone else it would look like she was staying behind him in case he fell. To Will it would be apparent that she didn't want to be anywhere near him and his germs.

It was that reason that she was running late. Her bottle of hand sanitizer was half gone. She was caught in the repetitive motion of washing her hands until she had glanced at the clock. Glee rehearsal would be over in twenty minutes. Earlier in the day she had made up her mind to go watch the kids. She hadn't had the chance to even talk with many of them and Will's mutual love of the kids and the music he was teaching them always put a smile on her face.

Hurrying down the hall she did a skip-step so her left foot was coming down on beats one and three. High school marching band no matter how many years gone had left its mark. She hated walking to a song when if her right foot came down on one. She hated walking to a song if she couldn't walk it at tempo or a slower one that still allowed her to remain correctly in step. Secretly she loved that. It was a silent recognition to an activity that had kept her from being the social outcast she surely would have been. Band geeks were unique, a tight-knit group with their own warped brand of humor. It was something that never changed sort of like how band directors seemingly all took a class on really bad instrument or band-related jokes. It also seemed that every director took the same class. She still knew those stupid jokes.

Pushing the door to the choir room open she was taken aback when all of the kids stopped in the middle of their song and just stood there shooting quick glances to one another as if they didn't know what to do about her presence. Looking around she noticed that Will was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Will?"

"He went to the bathroom?"

"He's making copies of sheet music."

"uh…he's talking with Rachel about not being such a diva." Emma looked at Finn. Rachel was standing not ten feet away. She could tell he realized his verbal idiocy as Will would call it when his panic-stricken eyes shifted between her and the brunette. Without so much as a parting gesture Emma turned and headed back out into the hall. They were covering for him. They were in on something that he didn't want her to know about. She wasn't sure where she was heading but a destination is forever destined to fall prey to mounting anger.

Rounding a corner she stopped midstride when she caught site of what were definitely Will's jeans through a door that wasn't closed completely. A door that led to Sue's office.

Emma was torn between storming over demanding to know why he was lying to her and simply walking away from yet another uncomfortable situation, an evasive maneuver that had always panned out in the past.

_He's probably telling you how screwed up you are, asking for help to get you out of his life. Heck, the therapist probably told him to give up. Do you realize how desperate he must be for ideas that he is talking to Sue?_

What should have scared her off only caused her to creep forward. She had to know what he was saying. The closer she got the more she could see and his arms were moving like they always did when he was frustrated. She didn't have to see his face to know what it looked like.

_See, he's angry because he can't get rid of you. You're like some bad cold he just can't shake. For once he and Sue probably agree on something. You would be the one to unite two mortal enemies behind one common cause. _

Still cautiously stepping towards the door she held her breath when she began to hear the faint sound of his voice. With just a few more feet she was in hearing range and his words had her wishing she would have just listened to her earlier instinct and walked way.

She began backing up entrenched in the taunting racing through her mind to notice the movement. Her collision with a locker jarred her into back into reality. She had to get out of here. Emma tore off down the hallway her mind flashing back to the night she had ran across the road. The same feelings of overwhelming fear, disparity and panic were accompanying her on this run as well. Her only focus was on getting to her car, getting home.

She didn't notice a small group of students watching her with looks of guilt on their faces.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will had just snuck out of Glee for his daily meeting with Sue. His frustration had increased with every step he took towards her office. Roughly pulling the door open he moved to take out some of his anger by slamming it closed.

"Trophies William."

He glared at her as he forced himself to nudge the door closed to involved in the horrible things he was going to tell Sue to realize that it hadn't clicked shut.

"Did you run out of hai-" Sue began what was undoubtedly a joke on behalf of his hair.

"Sue stop it. Not today." The venom in his voice didn't seem to surprise the cheerios coach as much as it did him.

Even through his emotional haze he watched in fascination as the bemused expression faded from her eyes as she leaned across the desk softly asking what was going on.

"We had individual therapy sessions yesterday. I made sure mine was first figuring Emma would be more shook up about the whole thing than I was." He paused annoyed that even without directly saying it he is admitting how sensitive he was to Sue.

"She was fine and you weren't." it was a statement not a question and it sounded like she had known where his line of conversation had been going.

"That's putting it lightly. He was a nice guy, funny yet sincere and compassionate. I liked him right up until the last ten minutes of the session and then he went and asked me such an asinine question that…that I determined right then and there that he wasn't as innocent as he came off."

"So he asked you a question you didn't want to answer?'

"He ignored my answer Sue. I told him that I was afraid of what she was doing to herself, that I was afraid I wouldn't be enough and he kept pressing. My answer was just fine. I don't know what he was looking for."

"I think you do."

"You don't even know the question!" his voice was raw with hatred. _How the hell is she so damn calm?_

"I have an idea, but tell me anyways…if you want."

Will felt much of the same sensations wash over him that he had experienced in Dan's office but this time the words came out just a little bit easier maybe because he had already said them once.

"He asked me if I was afraid she was going to die-" he let his voice fade away not sure if he wanted to divulge his answer.

Sue wasn't doing anything. In fact she was doing the same not doing anything that Dan had done. She was just sitting there staring at him waiting for him to drudge up for the second time something he hadn't wanted to drudge up the first time.

Will threw his hands up in frustration gesturing grandly like it would force the words from his mouth. "I finally told him that I was…I told him" he paused taking a deep breath and willing it to give him the voice to continue, " I told him that yes I was afraid she was going to die and that I wouldn't be able to do anything about it." His voice took on what could only be described as disbelief, "Why did I say that Sue? Why did I say something so…"

Sue silenced him leaning closer, "Will did you ever think you said it because it was true? You're worried about her. I'm worried about her. It's not that you don't believe what you said it's that you won't accept what it means. You won't accept what that answer reveals about you and how concerned you really are. It's forcing you to contemplate something you have been doing a commendable job of burying but you can't avoid it forever. It's there whether you want it to be or not."

Her voice was calming and unsettling all at once. Just like she said he wasn't ready to admit what the answer revealed about himself and continuing along that line he wasn't ready to admit that she had a point.

"Quit trying to punch holes in my logic. I don't even let my cheerios get away with that. I'll sneak into your house and replace whatever crap it is you use on that head of yours with blue dye. I'm not joking."

Sue's comment did make him chuckle.

"At least if I got attacked with a blueberry slushie it would match my hair."

Will groaned as he heard the very recognizable sound of someone being slammed into a locker. Hoping that it wasn't Kurt he walked out into the hall absent mindedly noticing that the door hadn't been closed all the way. He stared in confusion at the relatively empty hallway until his eyes found a rapidly retreating figure. For a moment he wondered if it wasn't the poor kid who had been shoved who had just been victimized but when he looked closer he could see the sunlight that was streaming through the glass double doors reflecting off of red hair.

Emma.

Not thinking Will began to run after her. He knew he could outpace her, his voice wavered in time with his feet connecting with the ground, "Emma, Emma wait, I can exp-" a sharp blow to his stomach by something that was large and extremely unforgiving knocked the air out of him causing him to stop. He placed his hands on his knees bending over to catch his breath as he watched Emma race out the door.

It was a tuba case.

Will glared at the case in anger and confusion until he noticed that there was a wide circle of band students around him. He had forgotten about the late rehearsal today. There was no way he would catch her now.

Mercedes' voice cracked through the air like a whip, "Outta the way band geeks, glee clubbers coming through!" She chuckled and Will assumed that the flurry of commotion around him meant they were scurrying in all directions. There was a very minute amount space that separated band geeks from glee clubbers on the Mckinnely high food chain.

"We're sorry Mr. Schue." Quinn's concerned voice reached his ears as someone put a hand on his shoulder.

Raising his head all the kids were standing around him with looks of sympathy and guilt. They were afraid to say anything so in typical fashion Mercedes stepped forward.

"She came into rehearsal not ten minutes after you left. We never thought about coming up with an excuse and we all offered one at the same time, some of them more believable than others." Mercedes shot a look at Finn who responded by dropping his eyes to the ground.

"We tried to follow her but by the time we figured out where she had gone she had seen you guys talking. I don't know what you said but she looked out of it until she backed into that locker and then she just ran," Will was surprised to hear so much compassion in Puck's voice.

Finally having gulped enough oxygen that he was capable of basic motor coordination he propped himself up against the nearest locker.

"It's okay guys. I never should have put you in that situation to begin with. It was my problem not yours. It's not your fault."

Finn looked him in the eye, "You didn't put us in any situation Mr. Schue. We chose to help you. We wanted to help you."

"What did you say? I mean, what did you say that scared her so much?" Rachel's usually obnoxious, demanding tone had adopted a timid quality like she was afraid she was overstepping her bounds.

Will sighed. He always preached to these kids about being honest with each other. It was time he practiced the mantra he so often threw at them and deflected from himself.

"A therapist asked me if I was afraid she was going to die. I didn't want to answer but he wasn't going to let me go until I did. I finally told him that I was. Emma must have overheard me say that to Sue. That's the only thing that could have upset her so much. I need to go after her."

"No, Mr. Schue trust me. Don't go yet. Give her time to cool off. She needs time to think things over. Wait a while, maybe an hour?" Quinn was always so grown up for her age but then again circumstances had forced to grow up fast.

A soft voice barely audible even in the dead quiet of the hallway rang out. "Um…I'm new…my name is Josh. I like, I like to sing."

Turning in the direction the sound had originated from Will noticed that the kid was standing next to a tuba case. The tuba case that he was certain was going to leave a bruise to be exact. Momentarily Will wanted to laugh the case was as big as him but one look into the boys' scared eyes turned his amusement into sympathy. _Geez he looks like the epitome of social outcast. Perfect he won't have a reputation to lose he'll fit right in, if he can sing. _

After a few hurried introductions Will found himself sitting on the risers alongside Rachel and Finn. He was certain Rachel had sat next to him to offer her opinion on the kid's voice. Will almost wanted to wave the audition and just let the poor guy in he looked so nervous. _Not only would you kick yourself but the kids would finish you off if he turned out to be tone-deaf._

Nodding his head for Josh to start Will worked to contain his grimace. He was so scared he was having trouble holding a pitch even though Will could tell it was there. As he sang he seemed to loosen up and not even Will could contain his smile as his shy warbling transformed into a rich, warm baritone. _Baritone? I was guessing tenor. Don't judge a book by its cover._

Josh had had barely popped the "d" on the end of the last word when everyone had burst into applause. Will wasn't certain if the boy heard his heart-felt "Welcome to Glee!" over the other students or not.

His phone buzzed. It had been an hour but it had been a pleasant one nothing like the wallowing in self-pity hour he would have entertained had he been left to his own devices. He had enjoyed himself and was a little more than excited about the new addition to their group. Even Rachel looked impressed.

Grabbing his coat he headed towards the door stopping just before he turned the handle. It was moment's like these when he truly loved Glee club, the close bonds that formed between a group of students that didn't exactly fit anywhere else.

It was Finn who spoke up first, "Hey man we're heading to breadstix. Wanna come along?"

There was a long pause and Will resisted the urge to turn around and see what was happening.

"No one ever wants to hang out with me."

"It's okay dude no one ever wants to hang out with us either, well except for me of course, so we hang out with each other." Will shook his head slightly at Puck's inflated ego.

His smile lasted him all the way to the car. They really were a great group. Starting his car he wondered what it would be like to take Emma to a restaurant and only have to deal with the mysphobia.

* * *

For as intent as he was on getting out of that parking lot and straight to the apartment complex he sure had found a lot of piddly things to. He had put gas in the car even though the tank was half full simultaneously taking the time to wash the windows something he usually steadfastly refused to do at gas stations. He had coasted around a construction site for a Wal-mart he could have cared less about and now that he was actually in the area of town he needed to be in he was driving around the block. He had stopped counting at ten.

A few passes later he had managed to park his car on the side of the street. He was a block away but it was progress. He wasn't sure if he wanted Emma to be able to look out the window and see his car or not. Opening the door he moved it back and forth listening to the squeak he had always meant to use some WD-40 on. His legs felt like they were made of cement as he placed one foot down on the pavement.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma didn't remember the drive home but Will's statement seemed to be permanently etched. She sat huddled up behind the couch berating herself for picking such an obvious location as she stopped resisting the clutches of her own mind.

_Good job Emma. Convince someone else you are crazy. They probably laughed as you ran off or did you even notice that he didn't try to follow you? Can you imagine what Sue must think of you after hearing everything you have put Will through? He didn't want you to know he was talking to her. He was too embarrassed. You're nothing but a fat bitch. Think of all the calories that were in that sandwich and god knows what that salad was comprised of. He could have slipped something in there without you even being aware of it, something to speed up the process of you getting fat. Why did you tell yourself that peanut butter and honey tasted good? You don't have any right to think that not when you are sitting there stuffing your face growing fatter by the second for the whole world to see. Can you feel it, how much bigger your stomach is, stretched with fat. Bone check._

Emma frantically ripped her shirt off running her hand along first one shoulder blade and then the other. She could still feel the bones but she swore she didn't feel them as much.

_You know you want to. Go luck at the mess you've created. Go on._

Emma stumbled to the bathroom tripping over her pants as she struggled to remove them. Standing parallel to the mirror she repeated a ritual she had forgotten about. She kept her eyes closed envisioning the worst possible image that she might see before she turned her head and dared to look.

_You know all things considered, you fail spectacularly well._

Fighting to hold back another round of tears Emma tore open the cupboard her gaze returned by empty space. This time she couldn't hold her frustration in as a guttural scream erupted from her. She needed to know her weight. What the hell did he do with the scale?

_See how he conspires against you, hiding the scale so you can't check and see how fat you are getting. That's not an act of love. Speaking of which are you still deluding yourself into thinking he loves you? No one can love you, not really. No one can love someone as fucked up as you. People actually want their significant other to have potential. The only potential you have is the potential to fail but hey at least you have some right? He doesn't love you. Maybe there was more truth behind those words than you thought. You didn't hear the whole conversation you know. Maybe he is afraid you won't die, that he will be forever burdened by your bothersome presence. He doesn't love you._

Emma wanted to feel safe. She wanted the voice to go away. She wanted Will.

_He doesn't love you._

Returning to her original position behind the couch she huddled up trying to convince herself that the arms wrapped around her body were his.

_You had better get used to this. You won't have him for that much longer and then you will be left alone with no one to comfort you, no one to make you feel safe._

_He doesn't love you._

Somewhere she heard her name, felt a hand on her shoulder.

_Get away from him. He's checking to see how much "progress" you are making._

_

* * *

_**Will's POV**

He had made it as far as the door. It had taken him about ten minutes but he was here. Knocking, he knew, wasn't going to work. She would never answer, that meant he had to let himself in which normally was no problem. Normally being when Emma hadn't witnessed him recounting what was undoubtedly the worst thing she could have possibly overheard.

Her scream cut him into even tinier pieces than he had managed to on the way over. _You caused that. What she is feeling right now, what she is going through? This is all your fault. _

The door remained unlocked. What good was it to walk in when he had no idea what to do let alone say? Hell he had no idea what to expect. It was the memory of the events the night of her mom's death that ended up getting the key into the lock. It sure as heck wasn't his own doing. He wasn't a hero, never was cut out for it. He was drowning in the deep end just as much as she was he just had to keep her above the surface too.

Emma wasn't visible when he walked in but he had a strong inkling as to where she would be. Crossing the room he stopped at the front of the couch and peered over the back. She was huddled up with her knees to her chest wearing only her bra and underwear. The tell-tale flush on her face and wet streaks told him she had been crying even if she wasn't right now. _What have I done? How am I supposed to fix this? There is no way I can retract what she heard._

Managing to squeeze himself part way between the couch and the wall he quietly said her name reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. She flinched as though it had been on fire. Will closed his eyes it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with him right now that she didn't even want him to touch her. Getting back out from behind the couch was definitely harder than getting behind it had been and he struggled for a little bit before he finally felt the absence of pressure on his chest. Quietly he crossed the room sitting on the floor next to the wall as far away from Emma as he could get while still being in the same room.

* * *

The wall was staring to dig into his back a painful reminder of just how long he had been sitting here. Moving to stand up he stilled halfway as Emma screamed.

"Shut up! Just leave me alone! He loves me! Shut up!" She jumped up from behind the couch her hair giving her a sort of wild look.

Before Will had time to react she was in the middle of the room pacing back and forth like a caged animal her hands on her head as she repeatedly told what he knew to be the voice to shut up and leave her alone.

From what he was gathering it was telling her he didn't love her. He thought about saying something when her tone changed becoming darker. Will listened closer wanting to know exactly what was being said, wanting to know what he was up against and more importantly how to negate it.

"You really think he loves you? Bitch. Convince the world. Convince the world how crazy you are. He was talking to Sue. He's so fucking desp-why are you letting him make you fat? Why are you allowing him to hold your hand as you fail? Remember, people want their significant other's to have potential and the only potential you have is the potential to fail and oh look, how sweet he's helping you realize your one potential. The one thing you can do well. Maybe he's not so bad after all. Why do you cling to the notion that he loves you? Think hard. Think hard Emma. Who would want to put with you? Why would someone like him want to even be in the same room as you? God you're disgusting, how can he stand to touch you? That's why you can never look him in the eye. You don't want to see the disgust there because that would shatter this nice little illusion you have created. "Emma's tone was low and throat underscoring just how much she believed what she was saying.

She was started to talk again and as much as Will wanted to go to her he stayed where he was.

Again Emma screamed her tone pleading as she tried to fight off what was going on in her mind. Her pacing became faster to match the words that tumbled out of her mouth.

"He loves me. He loves me. Leave me alone, leave me alone, just leave me the fuck alone. He loves me. He's helping me get better. He doesn't care that I'm fucked up at least not yet."

Will stood up this time. _At least not yet? _

There were shreds of uncertainty even when she was trying to convince herself that the voice was lying. That wasn't good. He needed to do act. Now. Will had never thought about how difficult it would be to fight something you couldn't see, to pull someone away from something only to have it tag right along. Every time he got Emma out of herself he knew it would only be a matter of time until she fell back in. He couldn't separate her from something that was sabotaging her from the inside. His remaining shred of hope was hinged on Kristen and Dan.

It was only a couple feet to where Emma was wearing holes in the carpet. He grabbed her gently or at least it had started out that way until she began to struggle to get free. Again she tried to jam her elbow into his chest but he had been expecting the move this time. He pulled her towards him so that her back was flesh against his chest roughly grabbing her arms and folding them across the upper half of her body gripping her tight. She kicked backwards with her foot catching his left knee cap. Will groaned with the unexpected pain as he dropped to one knee taking Emma with him. She was yelling things alternating between narrating what the voice was saying and how she was trying to counteract it. Long strings of "let me go's" were intermingled with "He doesn't love you's" only to be met with "He loves me." Will was lost and he wasn't the one experiencing it first person.

She was still trying to kick. It was only a matter of time before her foot cracked into some part of him again. Looking around he tried to figure out what to do. His eyes landed on the couch and he somewhat harshly shuffled them both towards it. It was impossible for him to be gentle when he was expending so much effort just to keep her from getting away.

He let himself fall onto the couch pulling Emma on top of him keeping his arms wrapped around her upper half as he brought a leg up to curl around hers hooking his foot underneath his other leg. A high school buddy of his who had been in the military had once held him down like this. Back then it had been a joke. It had never occurred to Will that it would ever be anything but.

Emma was continuing to fight thrashing her head back so that it smacked against his forehead. _Okay I don't think she meant to do that but goddamn…_

He cried out a bit as he felt her teeth sink into his arm. _She meant to do that._

Removing one of his arms he placed his hand on her forehead silently grateful that the pain in his arm was decreasing slightly, she still had her mouth there but wasn't applying as much pressure. He moved his hand up gently knowing that she would let go of his arm to follow the movement. Sparing a glance to his arm he noticed she hadn't even broken the skin it was the shock that had made it so painful. He held her like that, one hand on her forehead to keep her head down, an arm around hers to ensure they stayed locked at her chest and one leg thrown over both of hers so she couldn't kick biding his time until she was able to calm down.

She had started crying afterwards and he hadn't said anything merely shifting slightly so he wasn't so obviously trying to hold her down. He kept his leg around hers but removed his hand from her forehead allowing the grip he had on her arms to turn into a protective embrace while her tears fell against his neck.

He wasn't crying. He was upset because he had caused this. Emma should never have to experience this much anguish. It was only when he tried to put himself in her shoes, to imagine what he would have felt if he heard the person he loved say that they were afraid he was going to die that a couple tears threatened to surface. He didn't have a voice like hers in his head and he would be devastated_. We can't ignore this one. _

Gently he brushed of few strands of damp hair away from her face. She was calm now breathing deep the way he always did after he broke down. He could see that she was becoming groggy. He was losing his chance.

"Emma, we have to talk about this. We can't shove this under the rug and trust me I know how badly we both want to. Listen, I don't care if we talk about this alone or with Dan but either way we have to discuss it. I'm sorry Emma, really I am but we need to talk. Whether it's just us or it's with Dan we are going to talk tomorrow." He kept his voice soft, unthreatening.

He really wasn't expecting to get an answer out of her. It looked like she had nodded off to sleep.

"Last night you said that I'd be okay, You'd be okay, We'd be okay. Is that what you were talking about? Where you trying to convince yourself that what you said in Sue's office wouldn't happen?" her voice was soft yet demanding.

Will tensed. _How could I be so stupid to just assume she was asleep? I've fooled her with that too._

Letting his head fall back on the armrest behind him he confirmed her suspicion with the three-letter word that had been systematically placing chips in his world since yesterday. The same word that was giving him a first person seat as those chips began to snake out to each other leaving jagged lines in their wake.

They slept on the couch that night and at some point had Emma woke him up gently shaking his shoulder whispering while burying her head in his chest that she agreed they needed to talk. Vaguely Will remembered groggily muttering against her ear that they probably really should talk with Dan and vaguely he remembered her responding with a certain word that for once didn't seem so threatening.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. I'm trying to write some fluff really I am...one would think it would easier to write something light-hearted when your life is a mess...maybe I'm just weird that way:)


	17. Chapter 17

A/N:Winter weather thwarted our moving plans so I present to you the fluff ridden chapter I have long promised. Enjoy, I assure you it's not all fluff:)

As pointed out by a reviewer I have some things not matching up between the Will and Emma here and the Will and Emma on the show. I apologize but I never can remember the details in the first season of a show, heck I have problems with the details in the last show.

So was anyone else laughing as hard as I was at Will's varied responses to Sue's outburst as he sat on Figgins' desk. Those were priceless, as was Sue bursting into the locker room and his "It was..kind of like that." At least I think those were his words, refer to above details comment.

I sincerely apologize for the length of this chapter. I did not intend for it to be so long. As you will be able to tell this area is very much my domain. Sorry! I hope the content makes up for it.

**

* * *

****Chapter Seventeen**

**Dan's POV**

He had never been in a situation where the tension between two people was so intense it was tangible and he had been a therapist for over thirty years. They were sitting on the same couch but seeing as he occupied the other one that might not have been by choice. No one was saying anything. Emma was staring at her hands and Will was studying the floor. _He should have the carpet memorized by now._

"Who wants to start?" his voice slid into what he called "cautious" mode. He was treading carefully over a fragile issue.

Dan listened intently as Will gave a hurried run through his words seeming to flow endlessly together. Will obviously didn't want to spend much time on this topic and a glance at Emma told him that she didn't either. This wasn't going to go away. He knew that. They knew that. Dan also knew that the worst thing a therapist could do was force people to address something they weren't ready to not when it was something so raw and fresh. The issue would be waiting next week and he was content to let them work things out a bit on their own before he factored himself into the equation more than he had too. Two surprised faces stared back at him as he took the entire situation and forcefully turned it around. These two needed something to get their minds off of what was going on before it buried them both.

"You guys need to go do something, anything. Go out, relax, have fun. Remember what it's like to be a couple without all of this. What happened definitely warrants being talked about but I'm going to give you the chance to work through it a bit on your own in the meantime just take a day off."

Will had spoken up then saying something about Saturday and Emma not telling him what was going on despite his many clever ploys to evoke the information. Dan watched Emma she appeared to be embarrassed her actions indicating that she wished Will hadn't brought the topic up to begin with. He could run with that too.

"Emma, what are you worried about. I have only met you once but I know you well enough to be able to notice worry when I see it."

Emma launched into a spiel that mimicked Will's in its speed. She rambled nervously about how they didn't have to go that she didn't want Will to feel obligated to go. There was something else behind her voice. She was probably hoping he wouldn't detect. Her facial expression when he asked her why she was so overly concerned with giving Will an easy out confirmed his assumption.

She turned her face to the left the farthest she could get from Will without physically removing herself from the piece of furniture all together. "Being in Lima is one thing, people know us, they don't question anymore but the people in Columbus they are strangers." Emma cut off what he figured would have been an extension to her comment abruptly looking even further to her left.

"What were you about to say?"

"I'm worried he won't want to be seen with me." Emma's voice was barely above a whisper but in a room where one could hear a pin drop it was more than audible.

Dan remained quiet as Will whirled around to face her. She still wouldn't look at him. Will reached out grabbing her hand in his squeezing slightly.

"Emma…Emma how could you possibly think that? Have I done something to make you think that?" his voice was pained betraying the soothing tenor he had probably been aiming for.

After a few long awkward seconds it became apparent that Emma wasn't going to answer his question so once again Dan interjected. He knew that much of this really was her insecurity about Will leaving her but the major contributor behind it was the insecurities she called her own.

"Will they see you the way you view yourself or the other way?"

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will waited with an uncomfortable a nervous anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach. Dan's creative phrasing made the question seem more complex than it was really was. There were only two possible answers.

"Both, but more than that, I don't want people talking behind my back wondering why someone like Will would be with someone like me." Will couldn't stop his mouth from dropping open slightly as she lumped his two plausible outcomes into one word and forged ahead to create a third.

Hearing her say those words was more akin to a physical blow than the timid confession Emma had disguised them in.

Will shot a desperate look at Dan before grabbing Emma's other hand bringing them both together in his, "Emma, sweetie. I'm not embarrassed by you. I never have been and I never will be. I love you."

His mind was made up. Emma had been excited after her initial resistance to the idea of going out but everything since then had robbed that from her and he was determined to get it back. _We're going and I'm going to show her how special she is and I will definitely find a way to convey that I don't give a damn what other people think._

_

* * *

_**Emma's POV**

She absolutely was not going to give in to Will's suggestion. There was no way she was going. None.

One well-placed puppy dog look from Will went a long way towards convincing her but it had been the slow, loving kiss he had bestowed on her after that had made up the portion of her mind that had refused to take a side.

Double-checking the road Emma stole a glance at Will. As instructed he was sitting with his eyes closed. She had threatened to blindfold him if he refused to cooperate. His retort about blindfolds and strawberry topping being a rather enticing combination still had her blushing.

The highway ahead was still traffic-free leaving her the opportunity to study the man at her side. She had wanted to take the kiss further than the few seconds it had lasted but they would have been late. There was a spark that had flared up somewhere within the last few days. It wasn't anything either of them had consciously tried to do it had just ignited of its own accord. Emma found that Will had been a lot more hands on recently always ready with an excuse for his hand brushing across her in varying locations. There really was no excuse for the way he came up behind her last night while she was doing dishes trailing kisses down her neck as he pushed her against the counter. He was very apt in the art of distracting her and at one point she had considered turning around and giving in but one look at the soapy water in front of her provided a much better idea. Will had good-naturedly griped the rest of the evening about his eyes burning.

Returning her attention to where it should really be she took in the signs that thankfully told her she was almost to their destination. Pulling into a winding entrance as she stopped to hand an orange-clad teenager a five dollar bill.

"Exhibitor or spectator?" Emma pitied him, he already sounded like he had uttered that line a million times and it was only seven in the morning.

Parking in the location another orange-covered man had directed her to she was pleased to see that Will still had his eyes shut. He was alert though listening for any clues that might tell him where they were. Emma hadn't decided this part yet. She really wanted it to be a dramatic moment when he finally did open his eyes. Outside the building wasn't good enough she wanted him inside. _Ipod. Perfect. _

The only other constant accessory in Will's life was his ipod and on many mornings he had frantically searched for it even though it cost him his standard four cups of coffee. Leaning down she grabbed the device turning it on to find a song, something with a beat. She teasing Will about his absolute inability to walk off beat to a song not that she was any better. It had been paused on a mash-up of Singing in the Rain and Umbrella that Will had been contemplating using with the kids. _Good enough._

Grabbing the ear buds that were wrapped neatly she cursed her insane knack for getting things, especially ear buds, into frustratingly difficult knots. In one final act she simply shook them annoyed that the knot worked itself free. Will was still sitting in the same position the only difference being the slight tapping of his fingers on the handle of the door. It was taking some effort for him to not look. Reaching out she cupped the side of his face ignoring his confused expression as she pushed the ear buds into place. Before he could speak she told him to trust her and she grinned wickedly as he winced at the volume. The blue bar had indicated that the sound level was well past the half-way mark.

Walking around the car she opened the door wrapping her hand around his pulling upwards so he would get out. Even though he was robbed of two of his most important senses it didn't stop him from bumping the door closed with his rear an act Emma had always found endearing yet childish. Slowly she made her way towards the entrance silencing a woman sitting behind a table mouthing that it was a surprise as she motioned to Will. The woman had smiled and handed her two wrist bands apparently deciding they could put them on. Emma noted with satisfaction that no one else was afforded such a luxury. Deciding to draw out his already tested patience she placed a hand on his chest moving to wrap the band around his wrist. Stepping back she pondered her next action. There were two choices she was weighing. She could either have him open his eyes first or she could turn the ipod off. If she did the latter he would hear where he was. It was so noisy that she had actually turned the volume up. Getting him to open his eyes without him being able to hear her tell him to posed another problem altogether. He would forgive her later. Bringing her foot down on his had the desired effect.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will had no idea where they were going but he could have sworn he felt Emma's gaze boring into him. For as simple as Dan's pushing had been for them to go do something it sure had some far reaching effects. Emma's personality had changed, lightened somewhat. Meals still held the same amount of drama but outside of those times she seemed a bit more care-free. He had been using that to his advantage. While his advances had started out small in the form of "accidental" brushes against her body his very deliberate move last night could never be attributed as such. Red ink had been mocking him for over an hour as he circled wrong answer after wrong answer. He had looked towards Emma intending to comment on how he should just be hired as a full-time director of Glee when the sight of her swaying slightly to the country song coming across the radio had nullified that option. Will smiled as he formulated option number two. The song had made it possible for him to sneak up behind her unannounced. He let his hands rest on her hips as he dipped his head to the side planting slow kisses down her neck gently pushing his lower half forward so she bumped into the counter. Her attempts at not being distracted had been amusing to say the least. Warm, soapy water had chased away his amusement with a burning intensity.

Will perked up when he heard the window being rolled down silently hoping they fell under the classification of spectator. By the time Emma had parked the car he was beside himself with curiosity. It didn't help that she was fumbling with something instead of telling him he could look. Her cute little curse over that something was worth his torture. Feeling the sensation of ear buds being placed in his ears he nodded his agreement to Emma's asking for his trust. Not a second later music blared in his ears. He loved loud music but gradually working up to maximum volume and having it slam into you all at once were two radically different things.

It wasn't long before he felt Emma gently tug on his arm indicating that she wanted him to get out of the car. He couldn't see and his hearing was occupied by a song he was beginning to think was going to leave him deaf didn't stop him from his customary bumping of the car door. He had done it since he was in high school and the amusement was always evident behind Emma's chastising.

Pushing his way through the sensation that he was going to crash into a brick wall at any second he followed obediently behind Emma. A sudden drop in temperature told him they had just entered a building and the sudden increase to the song in his ears told him that Emma still had the ipod. _It's like I'm on a leash._

He stopped when he felt Emma's hand gently splayed across his chest his mind ticking away reasons behind her placing a wristband around his arm. Wondering if he was doomed to spend the rest of the day in partial sensory deprivation his eyes shot open when Emma's foot stomped on his. The first thing he saw was the smirk on her face. The second thing he saw was an Afghan Hound. _Afghan Hound? No one has Afghan Hounds unless…_

Removing the ear buds from what had become an obnoxious musical hell it was quickly replaced with a chorus of varying barks coupled with hair-dryers that clearly ranged in their drying power. He couldn't figure out where to look first. The stupid-happy grin on his face would probably become permanent. There were eight rings to his left, two to his right and a large area covered with dirt beyond those. Dogs were everywhere, walking past him, perched on grooming tables, standing ringside. The lady who was back brushing the feathering on an ASCOB American Cocker Spaniels' ears with a hair dryer tucked under her chin and a cell phone trapped between her face and shoulder snagged his attention for awhile. That had to have taken some time to master considering that the hand that was not holding the brush was holding the dog's ear in front of an expertly directed stream of air.

Dropping his gaze to the red-head in front of him she returned the gesture with a smile he hadn't seen in quite some time. This one was a real smile not the "I'm fine" pseudo smile he had seen so much of.

"How did you-"he sounded like a five-year old.

"I found your stash of Westminster Kennel Club dog show tapes, well that a book of dog breeds so well-read that the binding had been taped multiple times."

Will blushed. He wasn't sure why he was so secretive about his love of dogs. To anyone who knew him it would seem decidedly out of character and he was more than out of character as it was for some people. People who didn't like people who broke out into random song brought on by a single word.

"This is amazing Em, perfect. I've always wanted to go to a dog show but never have. Thank you so much." Leaning in he captured her lips in a kiss that he had meant to be quick and sweet after all there were German Shepherds about to enter ring one but when her tongue had slipped into his mouth he decided the shepherds could wait.

The Great Pyrenees that just brushed against him however could not. Pulling away from Emma he smirked at her shock about having been placed second to a dog. He didn't give her time to say anything grabbing her arm as he all but ran to catch up to the double-coated dog that was threatening to become enveloped in a mass of Newfoundlands. Not that he wouldn't be able to find it of course, the two breeds were a perfect opposite in the area of coat color. Unless he counted the Landseers and even they had patches of black.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Will had just voluntarily stopped kissing her.

For a dog.

She wasn't mad it was impossible to be mad at a grown man acting like a child at their first carnival. Her discovery of his tapes had been an accident. She had been looking for a pair of shoes searching through boxes one by one. There had been one box that had been far too heavy to contain shoes. Those tapes were dated all the way back to the eighties, each one carefully labeled. She didn't know what BIS stood for but every time those three letters appeared a dog breed followed them. It was not stretch of the imagination to equate the words Westminster Kennel Club dog show with the program she had half-heartedly watched once in a while. Smiling to herself she wondered why Will hadn't told her about this. Placing the box back in its previous location she noticed a book that had been resting underneath. The worn-pages filled with notes about the different dogs on the pages written in what was obviously a child's handwriting had caused her to smile again. As she flipped through the pages she took note of the dates. Some of them were from a time when Will would have been a child but just as many were more recent. One was dated last year actually. The title at the top of the page informed her that the breed she was looking at was a Cane Corso that according to his script had been recognized in 2010. This was something he loved as a child. This was something he still loved. Suddenly stumbling across that advertisement for a dog show in Columbus didn't seem so out of place after all.

To say she was impressed with his knowledge would have been the understatement of the century. His ability to name every breed they walked by was trumped only by his (occasionally annoying) ability to identify almost every song that played on the radio. That was the reason she often played country. Unfortunately it was backfiring on her. He was learning how to sing with a twang which was cute but the cuteness came with a price. He knew more of the artists than she did.

Emma followed behind Will having to take two steps to his one just to keep up. He was gesturing everywhere and out of what had to have been fifteen breeds the only ones she had caught were Golden Retriever and Poodle. Her front made an ungraceful collision with his back when she had commented on the ridiculous hair style Poodles always had.

Ten minutes later she found herself making a mental note to never make a comment like that again.

Will had politely explained that Poodles were originally bred as dogs to hunt in swamps. Their owners in an attempt to help the dogs swim faster shaved off the coat where they did not have vital organs and joints ergo the fur left over the chest, hips and so on. He clarified that Poodles were not French as most people thought they were just bred down and subsequently made popular by the French. The Standard Poodle was the original and it was of German derivation. He did admit that people had glammed up the coat a bit but they basic idea was still there. The ball on the end of the tail that had always made her laugh was apparently non-functional. It was a simple case of "our dogs are better than yours" on behalf of the French towards the British.

They were now sitting ringside as Will called it. Not only did he know way too much about dog breeds and random trivia about them he had an incredible handle on the dog show vernacular that still left her head spinning. She had never heard the word "bitch" used so nonchalantly in her life especially from the man next to her.

She had been walking past a woman with what Will told her were Pembroke Welsh Corgis when she had commented to another lady that "The bitch had just finished with a five point major."

Emma's mouth dropped open in shock as Will's laughter filled her ears. She didn't notice the woman staring at her like she had grown a third head until Will told the lady that Emma had never been to a dog show before.

And that was how Emma learned that if you said "female dog" you got weird stares. Dog was male. Bitch was female.

Turning her attention back to the flurry of dogs and people in front of her she for the umpteenth time asked what she was staring at. Usually Will absent-mindedly rattled off the breed intent on watching the competition but this time he had turned to stare at her.

"Really, Em? Come on think. Look."

Emma looked and thought and came up with nothing.

"Greyhounds, Em. Their Greyhounds, you know one of the earliest dog breeds…used in the deplorable sport of dog racing…" Will's voice trailed off as took in her look of "Really, how am I supposed to know that?"

Laughing he leaned over letting his lips ghost over her ear murmuring a soft "I love you even though you can't identify a greyhound." He had been doing simple things like that all morning, little gestures here and there that allowed her worries about him being seen with her to slowly fade into the background. The very few times Will actually walked behind her his hand was resting on her lower back and it was comforting to know that it wasn't because he preparing for her to run. On a walk through what she now knew was referred to as "grooming" he had pulled her into a side-door marked stairs grinning mischievously as he backed her against the wall before capturing her lips in a greedy kiss. Emma had returned the kiss full force but as soon as a moan spilled from her mouth he had pulled away quipping that he didn't want to miss the Golden Retrievers. Given her current state of mind she probably wouldn't have been able to even identify one and goldens were one of the very few dogs she knew. Will had chuckled as he opened the door the sound of her frustration must have struck him as funny. Funny as it was to him her frustration just struck her as frustrating.

There were far too many Golden Retrievers at this show. Will seemed perfectly content to watch one golden dog after another "gait" around the ring but Emma was getting bored. Will was still talking incessantly but she had become horribly lost somewhere between class order and conformation talk. He was actually pointing out what dogs he thought would be chosen or in a larger class what dogs would "make the cut." He was also doing a fantastic job at choosing correctly only disagreeing with the judge a few times. How in the world had they been together this long and she hadn't known of this? The Irish Setters that paraded into the ring were a welcome reprieve from the sea of gold she had been staring at until she was sick of the sea of red.

"Excuse me sir? Would you mind taking her into the ring? We all need to back in for breed and we are a handler short. Her class was Puppy Bitch 6 to 9 months. I don't expect her to do anything I just want her to get the experience."

Will could have passed himself off as a chameleon. His face shifted from terror directly into a nervous smile Emma adored before finally landing on its current shade of boyish enthusiasm still tinged with a bit of nervousness.

Giving Will the nudge he needed Emma spoke up, "He would love to, wouldn't you sweetie?"

The disparity in his eyes was lost in the silent thank you for the sentence he hadn't been able to voice. If he had however she was fairly certain he wouldn't have tacked on that last word. It was something she rarely did with him and it was more of an inside joke than anything else. He hated it and while Will would never be "sweetie" to her she loved using it against him. Especially when there was nothing he could do about it.

"How many dogs are before us? Do I have a chance to work with her a bit before we go in? Did you say her name if you did I didn't catch it." His questions amused Emma betraying his attempts at containing his excitement which he soon dropped all together. His winning smile won over the older lady in a heartbeat just like it did everyone else.

"There are twelve Irish Setters before us and one Gordon you have more than enough time to get to know her. Her name is Sue and I'm warning you she can be a handful. The term bitch doesn't simply mean female in her case. She has been that way from day one. It gives that added kick in the ring though and her structure is wonderful. I'm hoping she will do well." The admiration for the dog on the end of what looked like a string with the finest linked choke chain she had ever seen was clearly a source of pride and joy.

Will had gulped when the dog's name had been mentioned and coughed to cover his startled laugh at the irony of him being asked to handle what was probably the only dog named Sue on the premises, a bitchy one at that. Emma had to work to contain her own laughter not wanting to inadvertently offend the woman who had now introduced herself as Shannon. Another bout of incredulous stares were successfully squandered. Had they stepped into the Twilight Zone?

"What kind of dog is she?" Emma had to admit she really did like the way she looked. She was a sort of sort of amber with tightly curled fur covering her entire body. Her eyes gave her an intense look, the yellow blending in flawlessly. She was medium sized but judging by the adult male standing beside her she would be about the size of a Golden Retriever.

The response she got could not have been any more well-timed if they had tried. Both Shannon and Will deadpanned "Chesapeke Bay Retriever" their voices mingling together.

Shannon had chuckled at the question until Will much to her disdain had yet again revealed that it was Emma's first dog show. _Thanks a lot Will._

Will excitedly grabbed the lead as he had informed her earlier when she had asked how a string could possibly be used on a Great Dane. He went on to point out how they matched the color of the dog so they didn't detract from the dog's presentation.

"Pointers please?"

Shannon seemed impressed by Will's eagerness leading him over to a relatively open amount of space just to the side of the rings. She watched with the same giddy happy expression Will had been sporting all day as he took off at an awkward pace the dog bouncing all over at his side. Shannon had demonstrated with her own dog before sending Will off again. He caught on fast this time appearing much more controlled. It was evident to Emma immediately that Will knew some of the tricks of the trade. He had obviously practiced this, probably with his childhood Golden Retriever Allegro. _Only Will would come up with a name like that._

Emma watched as he glanced up at Shannon before making his way back and just as she had noticed almost every other handler doing he stopped a few feet from the woman to move to stand parallel to her holding out his finger as the dog positioned itself. His look of absolute glee about the flawless "free-stack" was infectious. That was one of many things that took his breath away. Literally. He often critiqued from his spectator status when a dog's feet were out of place.

With a slight motion and something she couldn't catch Will took off in a small circle keeping he lead admirably tucked just beneath the dog's chin in a fashion that she had seen some handlers use. The yellow-golden string was positioned so that it came out just in front of the dog's ear where Will left barely three or four inches the rest balled in his hand. He even knew how to roll the leash up in his hand just as well as anyone else. Stopping a bit in front of Shannon he bent over and placed Sue's feet into a stack it took some maneuvering but the dog eventually allowed her feet to remain where he placed them. Popping some dried liver out of his mouth (Emma blanched he wasn't going to kissing her anytime soon) he brought the lead up just behind the dog's ears causing to move forward holding the "bait" a few inches from her nose tossing it up and down a few times to keep the dog's interest before giving her a small nibble. Shannon was no doubt impressed. Emma was no doubt enjoying the view of Will's jean-clad butt as he had bent over to position the dog. Will had commented with a smirk that more people at dog shows were the victim of "butt shots" in almost every picture taken by a spectator. Emma fished around for the camera she had kept hidden moving a bit closer to snap a picture Shannon smirking as she did so.

Eventually Will's turn rolled around and his excitement was starting to be eclipsed by anxiety over what he was walking into. Shannon had placed a hand on his should obviously telling him that he would do great. Emma watched as Will slipped the arm band around his arm thankful that the rubber hand holding it in place hadn't snapped. His number was eight.

Emma felt horrible that Will was the first person called into the ring. He had visibly paled until Shannon had been called in right behind him whispering instructions as they both stacked their dogs. All in all there were nine Chesapeke Bay Retrievers in the ring and Will looked watched the older man intently who smiled gently at him probably noticing by his out of place attire that it was his first time doing this. His hand signals were more pronounced and his instructions loud unlike any of the other times he had judged and Emma thought it incredibly sweet knowing he was doing so for Will. Emma grinned as Will took off around the ring with Sue gaiting nicely by his side as the other dogs followed close behind. It took some effort on his part once again but he had finally stacked Sue keeping one eye on the dog and one eye on the approaching judge. Sue didn't move riveted on the bait in Will's hand the only sign that she was a puppy was her furiously wagging tail. Running down and back on diagonal strip of mat he again free-stacked the dog before he was told to go around the ring again glancing up at the judge each time he rounded a corner. He was good at this and relaxing more by the minute. Emma never watched the remaining eight dogs taking pictures of Will that she knew he would cherish later. Will even in jeans looked just as polished as the handler's behind him watching Sue so intently that the judge had to walk up him to say whatever it was he had hinted at with a pointing gesture in Will's direction. His mouth dropped open as he glanced back at Shannon who beamed at him. Shannon took Best of Opposite Sex and Will looked like the happiest man on earth as he was handed a yellow and purple ribbon. Leaving the ring he offered it to Shannon who clearly told him to keep it. Will had taken careful measures to make sure it didn't get any creases, so careful that it rivaled Emma's compulsion to avoid wrinkles in paper.

She had known Will wanted a dog for some time now. He had dropped hints here and there but after everything…everything with her had derailed not only her life but his as well and he had stopped mentioning it. Emma wasn't exactly opposed to a dog but she would be lying if she said she wasn't worried about the mess. Aside from being able to witness this side of Will her other motive had been a bit more personal. If she could handle a dog show, she could handle a dog.

Emma watched curiously as all of the rings cleared save one that held a staggering amount of Afghan Hounds. _I don't believe I remembered that. _

_

* * *

_**Will's POV**

Will was impressed with himself. So far he had correctly chosen the Best of Breed/Variety winner for the last three breeds. He was nervous every time he voiced his selection not wanting Emma to think he didn't know anything. Maybe the judge was taking pity on him.

The polite interruption that left him speechless thwarted his attempt to choose who he thought would take first place in the puppy class.

He resisted the urge to glare at Emma as she casually slipped a sweetie onto the end of her declaration taking the reins stating that Will would love to show the dog.

His battery of questions had spewed from his mouth before he could stop them and he was thankful when Shannon patiently answered all of them. He was dumbfounded when she told them the puppy's name mentioning that she was a bitch in every sense of the word. _Her name is Shannon. Cue the Twilight Zone music. _

His endlessly practicing with his beloved childhood companion was paying off in ways he never imagined as he caught on fast to Shannon's instructions. His time in the ring was nerve-wracking and quite possibly took second place only to watching the kids perform at a competition. _I'm showing a dog. I'm showing a dog. I'm good at this._

_We got Best of Breed! The underdog pulled through the story of my life. _

The purple and yellow ribbon he held in his hand with fancy gold lettering proclaiming Best of Breed felt like the trophy he had brought home after the kids took first place.

Taking his hand and brushing Emma's hair out of the way he murmured softly, "I liked those Irish Setters by the way. Their fur matches your hair but trust me you win out every time."

It was his personal mission to go out of his way to make loving gestures. Unfortunately doing such things was causing him to realize just how much he had neglected to do them recently. When had that happened? It wasn't going to happen anymore not after all of the cute smiles and blushes he was garnering. He felt horrible about it all really.

The dogs and judges were clearing the rings the universal dog show signal that it was lunch time. Emma wasn't aware of that yet and he very reluctantly drew her attention to the matter.

Standing in the concession line with a slightly more than terrified looking Emma at his side he was kicking himself to China and back for not packing something. He had persuaded her to get a simple burger pressing his luck to an entirely new level. Not only was this food from what she probably considered an unsafe force but it was also meat, a hurdle that hadn't tackled yet.

Her answer that she would try it, that she wanted to feel normal had been a positive turn he hadn't foreseen. He had hugged her close to him resting his chin atop her head telling her that she would be fine. It was this vantage point that afforded him the view of a couple of ladies who were openly, unabashedly staring at them. Staring at Emma.

Emma pushed away from his embrace beginning to turn in their direction. He had to do something. Clasping both her hands in his he whirled her around to face him allowing his breath to ghost across her cheek as he whispered that he wanted to do so much more than just kiss her. He kept his voice low ensuring that no one around them would overhear. His words were serving two purposes; one was successfully getting Emma to close her eyes and the other was unfortunately conjuring up images to match what he was describing. Whispering again that he loved her he walked them both up to the counter one arm wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her against him in an out of the ordinary possessive gesture on his behalf.

It didn't take long and Will was guiding Emma to a somewhat secluded table not wanting her out of the norm eating habits to attract any more attention than they probably already would. He bit back a frustrated sigh as the pair he had spotted earlier sat one table behind them still gawking except this time they were pointing. Stepping in front of Emma he stopped her before she could sit where she would be facing them glancing at a ring in the distance he told her he wanted to be able to be able to watch the Irish Terriers. Emma had rolled her eyes but relented.

He had ordered a cheeseburger and fries. Taking one large bite out of the burger his eyes flickered between the women behind them and Emma tearing the meat into small pieces just as she had done with the sandwiches. When she would look up he would pretend to be watching the dogs he had made her give up her seat for. The voice was creeping up on her but in his opinion her even touching the meat was a colossal leap forward. Glancing around he engaged her in a game that consisted of him pointing to a dog conveniently never behind her and asking her what it was making sure to over exaggerate his expressions in ways he knew would make her laugh. If he were telling time in dog breeds, and at dog shows everyone did, it had taken her twenty-five dogs to nibble away her burger. She had left the bun untouched an odd move for her but he wasn't going to bring it up.

Just as he was starting to forget about the intrusive couple seated behind them the older one pointed again this time laughing as she whispered something in the other woman's ear. He waited not so patiently until they looked over again. Making sure Emma was focused on trying to deduce what the Borzoi a few feet was he shot them a withering glare. A not so veiled threat to back off.

He kept his gaze trained on them as they got up to throw their trash away. There was a trash can right next to them and they were heading to the one that was about twenty feet past Emma and himself. They could have taken an indirect route but they were making a beeline for their table.

"She needs more than a burger don't you think? She looks like the human version of a sighthound." The woman made no attempt to disguise the disgust in her tone.

Will hoped that Emma hadn't heard the comment but that hope was dashed when he saw her looking down at her lap. Will leaned in whispering across the table, "Sweetie just ignore them okay that's the best thing we can do."

"I wonder if he closes his eyes when he touches her?" the outburst of laughter that followed had Will rising to his feet. In one fluid motion he was standing before them.

"I saw you staring earlier. I warned you in the concession line and I warned you again as you sat behind us and I was intent on ignoring you both not wanting to make a scene but you crossed a line and I am not going to keep quiet this time. I'm not going to stoop to your level but I assure you what I say next will not be heard by your ears only." Will's voice was a cross between a whisper and a hiss and he could feel the anger pool inside him with every word he uttered.

Raising his voice he continued, "Are you really that insecure that you feel you have to put others down? It doesn't make either of you seem like better people it just shows everyone how ignorant you are. That woman over there," Will pointed directly at Emma, "that woman is everything to me and your words hurt her. If you so much as look in her direction again I swear you will regret it."

Starting to walk away Will paused after a couple steps whirling around to level a stone-cold glare on their faces as he snarled that he did not close his eyes.

Not bothering to even so much as look over his shoulder he made his way over to Emma sitting down beside her.

"I love you." He emphasized each word hoping to evoke a response of any kind. It didn't work.

Changing tactics he grabbed her arms pulling her up so that she was standing in front of him.

"I love you. I can prove it Em. Right here, right now." Dropping his hands to rest on her hips he planted two soft kisses on her lips before deepening the third.

It took her a while but eventually Emma started to kiss him back. Will wasn't finished yet. The possessive streak that had shown itself earlier was not gone and he was awash in an almost animalistic need to declare to everyone that Emma belonged to him and no one else.

Giving in to what he truthfully knew he would never be able to resist he forced his tongue into her mouth as his kiss turned passionate, possessive. He didn't care that Emma seemed shocked by his action. The only thing on his mind was conveying that she was his. Backing away slightly he spun her around so her back was against him keeping his hands encircled protectively around her waist. He ever so slightly rocked his hips up into her wanting her to feel his arousal, wanting her to know what she was doing to him.

"My girl," he murmured gently into her ear his loving tone a stark contrast to the lust that was raging through him.

Holding her next to him as he did everything he could think of to quell his arousal eventually resorting to counting backwards from one hundred in Spanish. The concentration he was having to put into what would have usually been a remedial task was evidence that it was working.

Backing away he rotated her again this time so she was facing him.

"Do you believe me now?"

* * *

**Emma's POV**

If she ignored the fact that she was picking her burger into pieces and concentrated on the fact that she was actually touching meat Emma almost felt normal.

She was doing horribly at the game Will had initiated seemingly out of the blue. In her favor she had the Labrador Retriever, the Collie (although Will had corrected her saying it was a Rough-coated Collie) a Mastiff and to Will's surprise a Papillion. Not in her favor was a list so long she didn't even know where to start.

She had been laughing at his double-take to make sure she was really seeing a Papillion when before landing on her his eyes flickered briefly to something in the distance. That flicker was becoming more of a glance and the glance was becoming more of a glare. A cold glare.

"She needs more than a burger don't you think? She looks like the human version of a sighthound."

Emma knew that was meant for her. Suddenly she was self-conscious about everything from the bun reminiscent of the burger she had just ingested to the color of her dress. She didn't know what a sighthound was but Will had pointed out a few scenthounds. None of those had looked like the Greyhound or Saluki that he also mentioned as being a part of the hound group. Those dogs had been long-legged, naturally skinny, there ribs and hip bones visible.

She listened vaguely as Will told her to ignore them. That was impossible. They were confirming what she had been afraid of. Will wasn't acting like he was ashamed of being with her but no one had drawn any attention to the situation until now.

"I wonder if he closes his eyes when he touches her?"

_You wouldn't know if he did. You always have your eyes closed. Who knows what he is doing. Imagining someone else probably._

For a moment Emma thought Will was going to leave her sitting there until he stepped out in front of the two women that Emma assumed belonged to the comments she had just heard. She couldn't make out what he was whispering to them but he looked livid. In fact she hadn't ever seen him look quite like that before. Emma's head snapped up when he raised his voice her mind latching on to the segment where he had said she was everything to him, that he loved her.

Daring to look towards Will her mouth fell open as he pivoted on his heel declaring loud enough that even she could hear that he did not close his eyes.

She wasn't aware of Will sitting beside her even though she did register the words he was speaking. It was the words he had just spoken that had her so wrapped up. _He doesn't close his eyes._

The sensation of Will bringing her into a standing position inches from his face ceased any other bothersome thoughts. There was something in his eyes, something almost wild. She hadn't ever seen it before.

"I love you. I can prove it Em. Right here, right now."

_Please do. _

Two gentle kisses across her lips gave way to a third that slowly deepened. Emma was lost in his kiss. It took a while before she could regain enough of her senses to kiss him back. She felt Will's grip around her waist tighten seconds before his tongue pushed its way between her lips. She stilled not sure what to do about this development. Even her attempts to tell herself that they were in a public place were falling flat.

Will spun her around faster than she could comprehend but she could comprehend the definite bulge she felt against her lower back when he pressed his hips against hers. It was wrong to be this turned on when in public she was sure. She could feel herself growing wet. This side of Will was new, possessive almost and she definitely liked it.

_Yes I believe you now, god yes I believe you._

_

* * *

_**Will's POV**

They were sitting ringside waiting for groups to start, the Working group to be exact but he wasn't concentrating on that. He could care less about the "lunch bucket" dogs flowing into the ring in a perfect line. All of his attention was firmly held captive by the woman just inches from his side.

He had been hoping his little episode earlier would ensure that whatever it was he had got out of his system. Part of it was gone. He wasn't feeling an insane need to shove in everyone's face the fact that Emma was his but it hadn't gotten rid of the urge to do nothing but touch her.

There was a Doberman stacked flawlessly in front of him handled expertly by one of the top professional handler's in the nation and Will didn't care. What he did care about was finding something to set on his lap as the memories of his earlier lust-ridden haze became riddled with lust-ridden fantasies that left his body ignoring his silent pleas to not react.

Will shifted uncomfortably lowering his hand to rest in front of his crotch in what he hoped looked like a standard, relaxed pose. He was certain everyone was staring at him. Could this situation get any more embarrassing?

A jacket fell into his lap.

A yellow one.

Okay yes this situation could get more embarrassing. Shyly he glanced over at Emma who was attempting to ignore him but every time she looked at the Doberman in front of him her eyes shifted to his lap.

"Excuse me, ma'am, could you hand me that water bottle please, the one the gate?"

At some point the Doberman in front of him had morphed into a Dogue De Bordeaux and the water bottle in question was placed directly in between he and Emma. Not able to really do anything at the moment Will just offered a slightly tense smile as Emma reached over to grab the bottle. Her weight counterbalanced the folding chair she was sitting in and she blindly reached out to stop herself from falling. She reached blindly into Will's lap.

The "Oh god," that could not possibly be read as anything other than what it was slipped out of his mouth before he even had a chance to try and stop it.

Not wanting to meet anyone's eyes least of all those of the handler in front of him Will was torn between wanting to melt into a puddle and devising reasons to get Emma's hand back in his lap.

"Sir?"

Will looked up the handler who must have been about his age was motioning to the water bottle that now lay discarded at Will's feet. In slow motion he picked it up attempting to pass it off without having to meet the other man's gaze. When he heard a thank you he instinctively looked up to offer a response. The knowing smirk he caught sight of on the handler's face just before he moved further up the line only made the entire thing worse. He was officially certain he had never been this mortified in his life.

Emma was giggling.

Glaring at her Will whispered that it wasn't funny which only caused her to laugh more. She fixed her eyes on his and Will could have swore he saw a hint of playfulness. When she moved her chair closer to his Will deduced that he probably should have sworn.

Holding his breath as Emma placed her lips against his ear letting her hair cover her face he bit back what would have been a tell-tale groan.

"I like you like this way aroused and unable to do anything about it. When you pressed against me earlier I was wet. Seeing you like that was so incredibly sexy. "

Will was absolutely certain without a doubt positive that he could not be in a more compromising position.

"I'm wet now." The desire behind her words was unmistakable.

He was now absolutely certain without a doubt positive that there was always a more compromising position waiting around the corner.

They had to leave. Now.

Grabbing Emma somewhat roughly by the arm he hauled her across the show site keeping her jacked strategically placed fully intent on heading straight out the door into the parking lot until he caught site of the "exit to stairs" he had pulled her into earlier. That option sounded more enticing. Whoever said that instant gratification was a bad thing had clearly never been in the situation he was in right now.

As soon as he closed the door he had her backed into the wall kissing her as passionately as he could as he rocked his hips against her.

"Are you trying to kill me?" his voice was heavy, thick with arousal.

He didn't wait for Emma to answer attaching his mouth firmly on her neck sucking hard knowing and not caring that he was going to leave a mark. Emma was struggling to fight back moans and Will longed to be able to tell her not to hold back that he wanted to hear her. It was the thought of being able to listen to her without the fear of someone overhearing that managed to give him the control he needed to get out of the stairway and into the car.

Emma fumbled for the keys but he snatched them away. He was driving. There was no chance, no way he was going to let her drive not with her habit of driving ten below the speed limit. He wanted to get home as fast as possible.

Will had made it back a full fifteen minutes before Emma would have and he viewed it as fifteen more minutes he had working in his favor. Five of those fifteen minutes were spent making out in the car like teenagers before Will finally croaked out that they really should go inside.

Five of the remaining ten minutes Will had found his back slammed against the door almost before it was closed as Emma worked her tongue into his mouth. He moaned softly into her mouth trying unsuccessfully to push her off so he could get her to the bedroom. She was surprisingly strong when she wanted to be.

Will brought his hands to her hips before shoving her backwards a few steps only to crash his body against hers again this time making sure they at least headed in the general direction of the bedroom.

When his legs connected with the side of the bed he let himself fall down pulling Emma on top of him. Rolling over so that they were both facing each other he reached up to unclasp her bra. Emma moaned as the garment fell from her body and Will allowed that sound to chase away the shreds of doubt that surfaced when his gaze found her ribcage.

Emma's hands were suddenly ripping off his shirt and if it hadn't been a t-shirt he knew it would have been ruined. He started to murmur something about being impatient into her ear but he couldn't remember how he meant to end it when her hands found the waistband of his jeans.

He thought about stopping her, asking if she really wanted him to remove them but her insistent hands had made short work of his zipper which had made short work of the idea of stopping her.

Helping her to push his jeans all the way off he buried his head in her hair as some of the pressure against his groin was removed. He lowered his head swirling his tongue slowly around one nipple before taking it completely into his mouth. Emma bit off a whimper.

"Hey none of that, let me hear you." Returning his mouth this time to the other breast his soft command was obeyed in the form of a moan that left him smiling against her and if possible growing harder.

At some point Emma had removed her pants but Will had been too preoccupied with her breasts to notice. He definitely noticed when he dropped his hand down to lie flat against her only to feel the evidence of her own arousal through her cotton panties. Will began to massage her through the material absolutely loving the sounds she was making.

Emma whimpered when Will removed his hand but it had quickly turned into a moan when in one swift motion he had pulled her panties down his hand back in its original position.

"Will, please."

Will moved to her ear his voice ragged, "Please what, what do you want?"

"Touch me."

Will pressed the heel of his hand harder against her, "I am."

Will wasn't expecting Emma's hand to wrap around his and he was more than not expecting her to guide his middle finger inside of her. The air left his lungs in an exhale just shy of a moan at the sensation. She was so wet, so warm. Emma bucked up into him and Will gave in. Turning her on her side so her back was to his front he brought one hand up to play with one of her nipples while he began to roughly thrust his finger in and out of her. _God she's wet. God I want to be inside of her. _

His hips were involuntarily rocking against her back in time with the movements of his finger. He added another finger as he began to use his thumb to circle her clit she cried out his name causing Will to buck against her harder. He wanted so badly to take his boxers off, to feel her skin against him but he wouldn't push her that far not yet.

Will let a guttural sound emit from his throat as he pushed up against her again surprised to hear her answer back with one of her own.

"Hmm did you like that? Do you like feeling what you do to me? Do you like hearing me as much as I like hearing you?" he punctuated his comment by daring to add another finger.

Emma's strangled, broken yes was good enough for him. He could be loud. Terri had always silenced him saying it wasn't manly but he could definitely be loud.

A drawn-out groan erupted from somewhere deep within him when one of Emma's hands snaked between them to ghost along front of his boxers_. Emma please don't do that again._

He quickened the pace of his hand pulling out only to ram his fingers back in while his thumb pressed against her clit. Her cries and moans meant she was close and those sounds combined with the way she felt around his fingers was bringing him dangerously close to the edge.

Emma continued to rock against his hand crying out and he couldn't help but answer back. He stopped his ministrations on her clit when he felt her start to pulse around his fingers slowing his pace to let her ride out the last waves of her orgasm.

"Good girl." He offered as her breathing began to even out.

His control was tested again when Emma roughly pushed backwards against him. He removed his fingers abruptly drawing his hand to up latch onto her hip in a desperate attempt to stop what would shortly prove to be more than he could handle.

"Emma, you have to stop, I'm-"

"It's okay."

Normally he would have played the gentleman. He would have backed off resigning himself to taking care of things later. Normally he hadn't been horny as hell all day. Normally he wasn't lying with Emma with the only piece of clothing separating them being his boxers.

Will pulled her back into him grounding his hips against her his moan filling the air around them at the relief the friction brought. He was so close. He knew he wouldn't last long. He hated coming in his pants and hadn't done it since he was a teenager but he really didn't care about that right now.

"Em-"he began attempting to give her one last out.

Her response of grinding her rear against him was all the confirmation he needed. Thrusting against her two more times he stilled groaning as he breathed a broken version of her name against her back as he came.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

She loved the feeling of his arousal pressing into her back. She wasn't ready for the real thing but if it was anything like everything she had been and still was experiencing she was beginning to realize what all the fuss was about.

Purposefully Emma pushed herself against him enraptured by the sound he produced. He tried to stop her but her soft encouragement seemed to have absolved whatever qualms he had. His thrusts increased becoming harder as his breathing quickened.

His body went rigid and he held himself firmly against her. Emma could feel the front of his boxers grow warm and damp. The sensation did not deter her as she had thought it would. She smiled into the pillow. She was the one who did this to him. It was her name that he had cried out. He had reached orgasm because of her.

Will's groggy voice cut through her thoughts, "Emma, that…I love you," his arms wrapped around hers momentarily before he got up. She heard water running indicating that he was cleaning off. That should have been the first thing she went to do but she still didn't want to move. Will solved the problem by bringing back a warm wash cloth for her.

Emma felt safe in his arms with his body pressed against hers. She felt content. She felt…normal.

* * *

A/N: Enjoy?


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Sorry for the wait. Maybe it wasn't much of a wait, I don't know it felt like one to me. Enjoy a delightful combo of angst and...not angst:)

As always my apologies for errors of any kind and before someone comments on the thunder...my non-existant timeline has paved the way for inconsistant seasons and in my defense I've heard thunder in the winter. It just means you get a TON of snow. All that translates into is I thought of the idea the other day and it was too cute to pass up.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Emma's POV**

A clap of thunder that seemed to reverberate for minutes woke Emma up with a start. As ironic as it was she loved thunderstorms but was terrified of the rain. If she thought hard enough she could remember a time when she had waited excitedly for the violent streaks of lightning.

She could hear the tell-tale distant roar that always indicated an almost deafening crash before it finally fizzled out. Emma still felt that same excitement as she laid next to Will wondering if it was possible for him to sleep through such a storm.

Will jumped.

Emma laughed into his side at his reaction. To be fair she had jumped too when the noise had first jarred her awake but when the second round of thunder forced it's way in and he still jumped her giggling had turned into a small laugh.

"Will, are you afraid of thunder?"

The embarrassment embedded within a sleep-ridden voice gave him away before he even finished his sentence.

"No, it just startled me."

"Startled you twice?"

He didn't have time to respond as his body tensed again but this time instead of teasing Emma only wanted to comfort him. _He's afraid of thunder._

Emma scooted closer urging him to roll onto his side so she could slide up behind him draping her arm around his waist in the comforting manner he had so often bestowed upon her taking silent satisfaction at the feeling of his bare skin against hers. Neither had bothered to get dressed after their earlier events and Emma was beginning to wonder why anyone slept with clothes on or more accurately why anyone would sleep with clothes on when they had one Will Schuester lying next to them.

"Aww, shhh it's okay"

"Knock it off." He was making an effort to be stern but Mother Nature cut right through it with a particularly loud crack.

Emma laughed as she began to remove her hand only to have Will catch it and place it back in its original position apparently forgetting to let go.

"Not that." He sounded like a scared child and it was simply adorable.

Emma grabbed on to him tighter beginning to feel sympathetic for the man beside her even if most of that sympathy was eclipsed by how cute it was that Will was afraid of thunder. She let a gentle stream of air leave her mouth feeling the goose bumps that appeared on his skin. Grinning slightly she began to plant kisses down his neck ending just before she met his back.

"Or that," there was a slight moan behind that comment.

As she buried her face in his neck Emma murmured that they were quite the pair, one of them being afraid of rain and the other afraid of thunder.

"I'm not afraid." He didn't sound convincing in the least.

"Maybe it's just a clever ploy to get you to snuggle with me."

The chuckle she emitted was lost in another boom that effectively squelched any iota of credibility in his statement.

"It's cute."

It wasn't long before the storm had passed and Will had finally drifted back to sleep. She remained awake for a while contemplating everything, nothing and the grey in between until she finally nodded off.

* * *

Emma sat at the table fidgeting with the hem of Will's shirt. While she had told Will she didn't feel like locating hers from the night before her real motive was his scent that currently enveloped her. Will had smiled mumbling about having to go find something else to wear but he had tossed it across the room to her anyways. On a whim she had opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of his boxers as well. She had to admit they were comfortable even if she wasn't quite sure what had possessed her to wear them. She wasn't worried about his germs at all. It was Will. Will was safe.

She couldn't shake the feeling of normalcy she had found last night wrapped in Will's embrace. It had been a relief from all of the abnormalities that dominated her life. It took her a while to admit that she wanted it back, admitting that she wanted to feel normal wasn't as simple as it sounded. She wanted this disease to let her be normal. Before she even dared to entertain the idea she knew they would never go hand in hand. The thing she wanted to maintain would never give her the thing she was beginning to weakly admit that she might want. It was one or the other. Much like the decision she had unconsciously made so long ago this one had to be poked and prodded, examined from all angles and analyzed incessantly. The only key difference was that she was aware of the gravity of her thoughts this time.

A scorching hot pan of a breakfast casserole that Will assured her contained no dairy appeared in the middle of the table. Emma briefly closed her eyes. The habit had been gradually shortening in duration. She jumped when she felt a hand moving hair away from her ear.

"Do you have any idea how hot you look in my clothes Emma Pillsbury?" his voice was velvety, smooth, with a slight hint of playfulness.

"Well you look hot in everything, everything you wear especially everything you wear to school actually…" Emma trailed off cursing herself for revealing something so incriminating. _Verbal Idioicy: 1 Emma: 0_

Will's hand moved to brush along her back in a decidedly intimate fashion leaning forward so that his mouth was inches away from her cheek.

"Do I now?" Emma ducked her head slightly the playful nature behind that comment had been more than evident.

She wasn't going to respond to that. She was still too shy about her confession. Will had to think she was crazy for saying that even if his actions did indicate otherwise. Emma snorted into her glass of juice as Will slid into his chair across the table making out loud a mental note to not change if he got home before she did.

Somewhere during all of this Will had snuck a piece of the yellow, slightly slimy looking breakfast threat of the day onto her plate. He was always managing to sneak stuff past her. He was also good at distracting her in tense situations. The thing in front of her didn't seem nearly as imposing as it should have.

Forcing herself to pick up the fork with more confidence than she felt Emma tentatively pushed the first bite between her lips. Everything after that had been a race to stay one step ahead of the voice in her mind as she chased after normal with each bite.

She could hear Will's fork scraping over his plate the screeching sound that she never could stand. It had always been right up there with fingernails on a chalkboard and Will was all too aware of that. Her quick glance upward to get him to stop had revealed that the action had been on purpose.

Emma watched in shock as Will put his dishes in the sink and turned around to walk out of the kitchen mentioning that he needed to go get something. Emma had been too preoccupied with the fact that he had left the room to catch what it was he was headed after.

_Get rid of it. He's not here. He won't know. Hide it, you can throw it away later. Look at how much you have eaten already. Did you not notice how big that piece was? It was the same size as his. It doesn't matter that he ate two. You're smaller than him. Well at least for right now you are so one to you is two to him._

It was surprisingly easy to ignore the suggestions as the feeling of shock and gratitude at Will having trusted her enough to have left the room gave her the strength to finish off the last few bites. Even though she was still being screamed her at that was enough to buoy here through.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Standing anxiously a few feet away from the kitchen safely hidden by what was proving to be a conveniently placed wall Will listened closely for any sounds that might indicate what Emma was doing. His decision to walk out had been spur of the moment but the way she had tackled the food this morning left him feeling like he should do something to show her that he believed in her. That he trusted her. He clasped his hands together silently smiling up at the ceiling when he heard the sound of a fork scraping against a plate. It had occurred to him that she might be sliding the pieces to some place other than her mouth so he waited only seconds before walking back in trying not to be too obvious about his elation over seeing her still chewing.

It was only after he had washed his dishes that he allowed his gaze to rest on Emma curious and apprehensive about what he might find. When she looked up at him he offered a small grin with a slight nod only to be met with a much larger grin. A happy, proud grin. Will couldn't believe how well things seemed to be going. _She ate the rest all by herself. She smiled at me just now. Last night…_

Moving quickly to grab her plate Will chastised his internal censor and its all too frequent bouts of inoperability. _As if my all too common external verbal idiocy isn't enough. _He heard Emma approach behind him not expecting her arms to wrap around his waist. Resisting the urge to turn around he dipped his hand into the water.

"Don't you dare. I'll leave if you do."

Considering his options and really not giving the time of day to one of them he returned to his original task. He had spent a lot of time wondering what had brought about this sudden change in Emma before settling on spending less time wondering and more time enjoying. She seemed content…borderline normal.

Days had a way of turning against her and he hoped this wouldn't be one of them. It wasn't like they really had anywhere to be. It was Sunday after all and there were a multitude of things he could come up with for them to do many hopefully foraying into a few more intimate things.

Rough patches were always going to crop up they were an inevitability in everyone's life but Emma always seemed to stumble more than most occasionally falling down. Even after she tackled this disorder he knew it wasn't going to be over. When she finally overcame this, when it loosened its death grip on her mind there was another lurking beneath it. Whether she would be aware of it or not her mind was going to trade in one disorder for another. Will really didn't think her OCD or Mysophobia be they separate or combined held a candle to what they were working against right now.

Emma's hands were drifting lower coming to a stop just at the hem of his boxers. Will held his breath not daring to move. Her fingers dipped beneath the fabric barely ghosting across his skin and just as he was going to turn around they were gone and Emma was across the kitchen with a bashful yet downright adorable expression.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Slowly inching one foot forward Emma took off on a run into the living room with Will right on her heels. She was laughing as she barricaded herself behind the couch counteracting Will's steps to the right with an equal amount of her own. His expression could have been a Kodak moment, nothing but boyish enthusiasm. Emma hadn't been expecting it when Will placed one foot on the couch and jumped over the back twisting to the side so that he was facing her with a lopsided grin. Unable to move Emma didn't resist when he encircled her waist with his arms leaning in to kiss her tenderly.

"Got you." He murmured softly between kisses.

Emma's footsteps followed Will's as he led her around the couch pushing gently on her chest so she fell backwards. She couldn't discern the glint in Will's eyes until he climbed on top of her his legs bent at the knees straddling her the way she had done so many times with him careful to support his own weight. Her comment about how that was normally the female's position died on her lips as soon as his found her neck. Letting her head roll to the left she lightly pushed against Will's chest only to be met with a strong resistance.

"Uh huh. I got you, that means I get to do what I want." Emma was too lost in the arousal that was seeping into his voice to really comprehend his words.

She was surprised when Will's fingers wrapped around both of her wrists drawing them behind her back as he quickly moved so he was using only one hand to hold them there. His eyes flickered up to hers a silent question to which Emma could only nod. Leaning forward Will pushed her further into the cushion behind her his hand firmly keeping her arms where he had placed them. The excitement she had first felt when Will held her arms was becoming tinged with frustration. Having Will's mouth all over her as he slid his free hand up her shirt and not being able to touch him back was pure torture and from the smirk he shot her once in a while he could tell he was enjoying this. A soft sound of appreciation escaped her lips as he began sucking on her collar bone. Her efforts to wrench her hands out of his grasp were met with a muffled "stay."

The groan of frustration only caused him to press his mouth against her harder. In an act of desperation she raised her leg up with a little more force than normally called for. Will took in a ragged breath letting go of her hands. Emma wasted no time taking advantage of her freedom sliding her hands under his shirt tracing the same patterns he had on her. His short breaths had transformed into a light moan. Emma moved the lower half of her body against him letting the contact linger for a while. This time the sound he made had been almost hurried in its need to be released. Leaning in Emma threw his earlier words back at him.

"Let me here you."

Drawing one hand up to weave through his curls she timidly dropped the other between their bodies keeping Will's eyes locked on hers. Very shyly she brushed her hand across the front of his boxers watching how his eyes closed and his mouth dropped open to let loose a rough gust of air. Growing braver she lightly flattened her hand across him fascinated by the way he shuddered, moaning loudly as he dropped his head against her neck. Emma was about to repeat the action when his hand roughly grabbed hers as he fell backwards letting her collapse on top of him. She whimpered into his mouth when she felt a very distinct bulge against her stomach.

Emma hadn't even been aware that her hips had started pushing into his thigh until the sensation between her legs became too intense for her to ignore. Her strangled cry as Will placed his hand on either side of her hips pushing her away from him had earned her a throaty chuckle.

"Do you trust me?" There had been so many occasions on which he had asked her that question and she had never once and probably never would say no.

She shivered as Will told her to stay where she was as he began to slide his boxers down her legs groaning slightly when he found she wasn't wearing any underwear. Emma stilled shame punching holes through her arousal as she felt completely exposed in the well-lit room.

"I want to feel you."

With the slightest amount of pressure he moved his hands back to her hips silently telling her to lower herself onto him. The look in his eyes, arousal tinged with the Will she knew and loved permitted her to let her body rest against his. She was surprised to find that her lower half hit skin, thigh to be exact and as Will scooted her up for a kiss she gasped at the sensation rubbing against him caused. His tongue dipped in between her lips nothing like the frenzied pace of the night before. Will's groan as he moved his mouth to the side of her cheek was what made her notice her hips were grinding against him again except this time it felt so much better. Emma stopped embarrassed that such a silly motion could cause her to feel like this but Will had softly encouraged her saying that he thought it was sexy as hell. His whispered words alternating between how much he loved her to how amazing she felt against him only increased her movements. The pressure between her legs was growing and she moaned loudly into his shirt when he made a comment about how wet she was, about how he loved that he was the one who caused that. An almost inaudible "Come on," combined with his hands finding her rear forcing her against him sent her over the edge her body stilling as Will murmured something against her skin. It wasn't until her orgasm had passed that she realized she had bitten down on Will's chest through his shirt.

Will simply held her against him running his hands through her hair as he whispered little endearments that if she had been capable of such a reaction would have left her blushing. Her shy inquiry about him had been hushed by his lips as he rolled them over so Emma's back was against the couch gently telling her that he would take care of it later and that for the moment he was more content to be right where he was.

His cell phone rang.

Emma laughed as Will reluctantly untangled himself from her near death-grip stepping somewhat awkwardly across the room to put an end to the shrill noise. Watching Will attempt to carry on a normal conversation while he was so obviously not concentrating on whatever the person on the other end was saying was quickly becoming one of Emma's favorite things to do.

Peeling herself off the couch she crept over standing innocently behind him as she raised herself up just far enough that when she pressed against him he would be able to feel her against his lower back.

"Geez-" Will jumped his grip on the phone loosening as Emma watched it clatter to the ground.

She could hear a muffled voice but as she moved to pick up the phone she purposefully positioned herself in front of Will letting out a word of exclamation herself when his hands had connected with her hips pulling her against him. He leaned over her back whispering softly into her ear.

"That wasn't nice."

In the end Emma had left Will alone to handle whoever it was he was talking to. She hadn't really been paying attention until she heard Will's attempt to get her out of something only to refute by saying that she would be there.

* * *

**Will's POV**

The sensation of Emma grinding against him was indescribable. It had taken him a while to figure out how far to push things. Bringing his hands up to her hips he softly asked Emma if she trusted him purposefully choosing the phrase he had used so many times. As he slid his boxers down her legs watching her face he saw a flicker of uncertainty. _The light. It has to be the light. _

Borrowing each others' words was becoming a game between them as he eased away her fear with one sentence and a slight downward movement with his hands. He was not prepared for how it would feel to have Emma pressed against his skin. The only functioning portion of his brain told him to kiss her. Sliding his tongue into her mouth he resisted a grin as she began to grind into him. Almost as quickly as she began she stopped.

" Em don't stop. I think it's sexy as hell." When she started moving again he moaned slightly in encouragement.

Unable to keep his hands confined to her hair any longer he ran them up and down her body as her pace quickened. Her breaths were starting to become ragged riddled with whimpers that were driving him crazy.

"Come on, come for me Emma."

The effect his voice had on her was something he didn't think he would ever get used to. There were so many things he wanted to say to her and he was trying desperately to keep his comments tame. It was working until the reason a small section of his thigh felt cool when Emma raised off of him sunk in.

"I love that I'm the one who does that to you. You're so wet."

Afraid of what Emma might think of those words he braced for the worst relieved and incredibly aroused when she groaned harshly against his shirt bucking into him with even more intensity. Will placed his hands on her rear adding more force behind her movement once again egging her on with his words. She stopped hovering above him his small grin traded in for a quiet moan when her teeth had found his chest. That was without a doubt lobbying for first place on his list of quirks that he loved about her.

Will officially never wanted to move. A content Emma pressed against him with the evidence of her arousal still heavy in the air as it dried against his leg was about as close to perfect as he could get.

Obnoxious ringtones were not in his definition of perfect.

Will made his way to the phone reciting whatever vocabulary he could think of in Spanish as he attempted to walk across the room like he wasn't as aroused as he was. Quickly clearing his throat he hoped there wouldn't be any incriminating evidence waiting to give him away. He had no idea who was calling he had purposefully chosen an annoying ringer for numbers he didn't recognize. That way if he so chose, he could ignore them. If he could put up with the noise long enough that was.

Flipping open his phone he was surprised to hear Shannon's voice on the other end.

"Hey Will, this is Shannon, look I was wondering…um…well I have these gift cards for pizza hut and the football team bailed on me and I'm here and don't…don't want to eat alone. Are you in the middle of anything? I mean you don't have to come. I'm not forcing you."

Whatever Shannon had been rambling on about after that was lost in the sensation of feeling Emma against his back. The phone fell to the ground in slow motion and dimly he was aware that he should probably be reaching for it, that he should probably be getting back to Shannon. His lips parted slightly as Emma bent over in front of him to retrieve the object. _I can tease too my dear._

Her gasp when his hips pressed into her backside was more than worth having to fabricate an excuse as to why he hadn't been responding to Shannon's questions for the last ten seconds.

Will really did not want to go but the tone in Shannon's voice was the same one that so often occupied Emma's, complete and utter insecurity. There was no way he could turn down her offer.

"Uh..no…yeah…sure that's fine. Don't worry you're not interrupting anything that important," Will shot a playful glance at Emma who had simply pouted reconfirming that the gesture remained in its rightful first place slot. "I'll be there in about an hour, is that okay?"

His thoughts about how he had effectively steered past that meltdown were not long-lived.

"Bring Emma along would ya? I, I got her something. It's nothing special I just saw it in the store the other day and…" Will hung his head.

This woman was like an alternate Emma, same insecurities wrapped with slightly varying paper. There was no way he could turn her down on this either. Resigning himself to the fact that the day might have just turned against them both he promised that Emma would be along.

The snap of his phone as it closed seemed as jarring as the thunder had been last night in the silence around him. If he would have known about the other half of her question he would have allotted them much more time than an hour.

Will hadn't moved from his position by the counter, letting his weight rest on his elbow as he ticked off ways to broach the whole issue with Emma. He had a little bit of time. He hadn't been that obvious about it being somewhere Emma would consider unsafe.

"Where are we going Will?" her voice held a slight waver that told him that maybe he needed to redefine his definition of obvious.

Not really caring to encroach on Emma's personal space at the moment he remained where he was.

"That was Shannon. She wants us to join her at Pizza Hut apparently the football team didn't bother to tell her they weren't going to show and she doesn't want to eat alone. I tried to leave you out of it but she has something for you and she sounded so desperate I just couldn't say no." He should have shut up after Pizza Hut everything after that had clearly been wasted air.

As he observed Emma from across the room he could tell without seeing her face that it was awash with panic. The last time she had eaten pizza had been that time at Godfather's with her mother. A few weeks ago Emma had finally told him that story, about how she absolutely could not stop eating, that it was the first time she purged, that she had been too preoccupied with herself to ask why her mom was even in the state. Her voice had turned bitter when she told him that her dad later told her it was her mom's way of getting to see her without having to put her through any unnecessary pain. On top of pizza ranking high in the realm of unsafe foods there was that little gem which wasn't going to make this any easier.

"Em, we only have an hour. We need to get dressed, not that I wouldn't mind you staying like that all day." His attempt at light-hearted innuendo plopped ungracefully to the floor.

A few strides later he had hauled Emma off the couch and into the bedroom noticing with a small amount of hope that she wasn't completely removing herself from the situation. He ran to put on some clothes while Emma washed up in the bathroom. Will wasn't going to press his luck with making suggestions about her attire today. Recently he had been trying to nudge her more towards the back of the closet where she had shoved all of her "revealing clothes" as she had labeled them. He would have let her wear a garbage bag if it meant she would set foot in that restaurant.

* * *

Will had been determined to not have the fifteen minute drive succumb to the cone of silence as he called it. He only once told her she would be okay and the rest of the time he had been singing softly to whatever came across the radio his hand gently placed on Emma's knee. Removing his hand he turned the steering wheel into a parking spot that was a fair distance from the door. Will hoped she didn't have a panic attack before they got inside or worse, when they were inside.

Bringing her hand to his lips and brushing a soft kiss across the back he whispered that she would be fine before quickly opening his door. He all but ran behind the car to open her door as he softly grabbed her arm moving it towards him. He wasn't going to give Emma time to work herself up.

He let his hand find her lower back as he applied a small amount of force to keep her moving in the direction of the glass doors and as Will watched the mirror version of themselves growing larger his slight pressure against Emma increased.

Shannon was waiting just inside and enveloped Will in a near bone-crushing hug before doing the same to Emma albeit with a much gentler embrace. From the pain he could still detect in his back Will deduced that perhaps she should have been gentler with him too.

A young waitress bounced up to them an infectious smile that no one could resist plastered on her face. As soon as Shannon turned her back Will quietly repeated to Emma that she would be fine before taking off after the football coach weaving through a sea of patrons until they came to a stop at a booth that seemed to be off by itself.

The gift card in Shannon's hand that dictated it could only be used with a large, one-topping pizza which solved one of the problems leaving a much larger one closer to the top of a growing pile.

Will talked with Shannon about the latest antics of the football team, how the team members had found yet another reason to pit themselves against each other. The frustration in her voice matched the frustration he occasionally detected in his before a performance when the kids weren't paying attention. Listening politely and interjecting his advice he dropped his hand beneath the table scooting a bit closer to Emma so he could place it in hers. So far she had been doing very well considering where she was and what was about to happen. She had attempted to make a few comments when Shannon had asked her opinion as a counselor but everything she had said was in a severely distracted tone.

Will saw the waitress approaching before Emma did their pizza balanced expertly in one hand while the other carried a pitcher of water. He gave Emma a gentle squeeze as the pan slid on to the table. Trying to not be obvious about watching Emma he kept talking with the coach while glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She hadn't moved staring wide-eyed at her own personal nightmare topped with extra cheese. Beginning to think this whole thing was a very bad idea Will decided to get Emma off the hook. The line about having eaten before they left was so horribly over-used by those who had eating disorders and here he was about to say it for someone who had an eating disorder.

"Hey guys, sorry about that. Here, Emma let me get you a piece." Will tightened his grip on Emma's hand as a large piece fell onto her plate.

Shannon could not have picked a more inconvenient time to ask him how Glee was going. Her battery of questions ranging from how her football players were doing to whether or not he had a set-list made up for sectionals didn't afford him the opportunity to slyly check on the woman at his side. As the coach lowered her head to take a bite Will moved to do the same his eyes widening as Emma mimicked them both. _That wasn't even a small bite. That was a normal-sized one. _

Emma's behavior could be interrupted as potentially bad or potentially good. He was going to go with the latter option.

The conversation slowed as they worked their way through slices of extra-cheese pizza. So far Emma had been taking regular bites the entire time and she finished hers just as Will did. The look of utter horror that took up residence on her face told Will that the argument she had been using to justify her actions had just sputtered to a halt.

There was nothing Will could say to stop Shannon from giving Emma another piece. She hadn't even asked Emma if she wanted one. Emma had shifted back into the disordered portion of her mind as Will sometimes referred to it. Her hand inched towards the pizza and he was sure he could see it shaking. Without warning her cautious advance became just the opposite. Within seconds the slice was in her hands and she was taking large bites. Will didn't know what was going through her mind but this looked a lot like the state he had found Emma in with the cookies her mom had sent. Her eyes weren't glossed over though a detail Will had yet to decipher the meaning behind. His hands were tied. He could do nothing but sit and hope for the better of the two scenarios his mind was playing out.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Everything about the environment she had just stepped into was miles beyond overwhelming. There was food everywhere she looked, waiters balancing pizzas as they made their way towards people who were laughing…and eating. The smell was the worst part. It infiltrated her senses overriding them all with its intensity making her wonder if she could detect every ingredient used to make the food around her.

Emma didn't notice the pizza until it was set down in front of her but Will's gentle squeeze a moment before made sense now. She wished she could curl up into him and that maybe in doing so the whole world right along with the thing in front of her would cease to exist.

There was a slice on her plate.

Emma wasn't paying attention to either Will or Shannon as she engaged in a time-worn battle in her mind this time her argument stronger than it usually was.

_I just want to feel normal. It's one piece. I can eat one piece. Everyone else is eating, Will is eating. Come on you can do this. It's just one slice._

She attempted to savor the taste of the substance in her mouth but it was impossible. Even though she had convinced herself that it was okay to eat she hadn't won the battle about allowing herself to enjoy it. In a few bites the slice was gone. Emma was silently congratulating herself and holding the voice at bay when the next slice dropped on to what had been a safely empty plate.

_Now what are you going to do? Was it really worth it? Did you feel normal? You'll never be normal. Eat it. You made the bed you get to lay in it, hopefully it doesn't collapse. _

Emma's hand started a slow journey towards her plate before she decided that getting the object in front of her out of sight as quickly as possible would at least not prolong the torture of having to eat another slice. She felt vaguely like she had that night on the kitchen floor as she crammed chunks into her mouth determined to get it out of her sight. The empty plate before her meant that at some point she had spaced out.

_Another mess you've gotten yourself into and another problem you have to fix because of your own stupidity. You have to get it out. Think about it sitting there, festering inside you biding its time until the fat inside it settles on your thighs and arms. You saw him watching you. He was growing more repulsed with every bite you took and you know it. If you don't make this right he is going to leave. No one wants someone who can't take responsibility for their own stupidity. _

Emma abruptly jumped up from her seat forcing Will to relinquish his grip on her hand. She hadn't thought about what she was going to say once she had stood up. Her only focus had been on correcting her mistake not providing a cover story for correcting her mistake. All of the background noise that had previously been so daunting faded away as her breathing began to quicken. With a very concentrated effort to move slowly Emma slid out to the end of the table intentionally looking at Shannon and not Will. She didn't want to see his reaction. She didn't want to see him silently plead for her to sit back down. She didn't want to admit that he knew exactly what she was about to do.

_There is nothing he can do about it anyways. This is perfect. Now move, every second you stand here is another second for the failure in your stomach to create failure on your body. _

"I…I um, I have to go to the bathroom." Not giving either of them a chance to respond Emma pivoted on her heel her eyes locked on one particular sign at the front of the restaurant.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will had officially run the gauntlet on possible scenarios behind Emma's actions not that there had been too many to begin with. It was only after she began to tear into the second slice that he decided to stay quiet, to let this play out it wasn't like there was much he could do with Shannon sitting a couple feet away from them anyways. The second slice disappeared faster than the first.

His hand had still been wrapped around hers when she shot up from her seat. There had been no chance for him to stop her and even if there had been he told himself he wouldn't have taken it. Telling himself he wouldn't have done anything was quickly delving into the world of convincing himself not do to something.

She was tense and obviously had reacted before she had thought out the technicalities of her plan. He held his breath willing her to turn in his direction as the two words in his mind became a chant. _Emma, don't._

He released the air he had been holding captive in a combination of frustration and disappointment as Emma stammered that she had to go to the bathroom. Even if her tone been brimming with confidence he would have known she was lying. Not once did she look at him before she headed toward her destination.

Will stared after her in desperation. He didn't want her taking this step backwards. Rather he wanted to make her believe in whatever way he could that two slices of pizza were not the failure she thought them to be. If she was going to take a step it needed to be forward at least when there was still a chance it could be.

He really didn't have many options. Shannon had just started on her third slice not aware of what Emma had really meant a few moments ago. He was also running out of time. Taking a breath he leaned over the table.

"Shannon, please follow her," The woman looked up a question forming on her lips, "just please go after her and if…if she starts to throw up," Will looked around the room relieved that most of the people were men, "come get me. I'll explain everything later, just please…"

He couldn't believe what he was doing. He was supposed to have let all this unfold unhindered. Of course when that line of thinking had presented itself it hadn't ended with Emma scurrying off to the bathroom.

To her credit Shannon got up even though she still wore a look of confusion. Will watched anxiously as the woman headed in the same direction Emma had taken. He was trying to keep himself calm but as soon as the door closed behind her he gave up. _I should have put up more of a fight to get her out of this. Whatever Shannon has for her she could have given it to her at school. Why didn't I think of that? _

_

* * *

_

**Shannon's POV**

Pushing the door open Shannon wondered just why it was Will had her following Emma into a restroom. Going to the bathroom in pairs was just another "girl thing" that Shannon had never done.

There were only four stalls but she could see Emma's shoes under one of the doors. Stepping closer she could tell that Emma was on her knees. Unsure of what to do she momentarily wondered if Emma could be pregnant before the sound of partially digested food coming into contact with water banished the thought. There was no way Will would get her pregnant not after everything she had heard about what Terri had done to him.

She thought about confronting Emma herself but she couldn't even come up with a starting word. Backing out as quietly as she could she didn't even make it two steps out the door before Will was closing the distance between them with long strides.

When his eyes met hers Shannon didn't know what to say.

"She's, I don't…"

"Watch the door," Shannon couldn't place the emotion behind Will's words but if she had to guess she would have placed it somewhere in the vicinity of despair.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Slipping into the restroom Will hoped that his earlier head count would work in his favor. He really didn't want to be walked in on. It was bad enough being in here to begin with.

It didn't take him long to figure out which stall Emma was in. The sounds of someone throwing up are strikingly identifiable and do a great job of pinpointing someone's location especially if there are only four possibilities.

He paused outside the stall door not sure how to proceed. That night at her house he had ran to her side after he had finally gotten over his shock. He really didn't want the episode that had followed then to occur here.

Leaning against the door he waited for a break in the noise coming from behind the door. She was coughing slightly, the opportunity he had been waiting for.

"Emma…sweetie just come out okay?"

The only response he got was another spattering of food against water.

Giving it one last shot he talked against the cool surface his forehead now rested on.

"Please Emma, it was only two slices. Shannon and I both ate more than you did. Come on Em, don't do this."

He still wasn't getting anywhere. Short of crawling underneath the door there was absolutely nothing he could do from his current position. Backing away from the door he turned and walked out letting his back crash into the wall just beside the entrance as he fought back a wave of anger.

"Will, what's going on? Does she-" There were equal amounts of concern and caution evident in the coaches' gentle inquiry.

Will really didn't want to hear someone else say the words. Whether it was some misguided attempt to protect her or some aspect of his denial that had yet to be obliterated he wanted to be the one to say it.

"She…she's anorexic. We're working on it, individual therapy, couple's therapy, nutritionist appointments, the whole nine yards. She's been getting better slowly but the grip on her mind that this has on her has proven to be a challenge to say the least."

"I'm really glad I didn't give her what I saw in the store." This time there were equal combinations of relief and concern.

Will was about to ask what she had gotten Emma when he heard water running. Mouthing to Shannon to go sit down he told her he would pay their half of whatever the ticket was on Monday. Shannon had simply shaken her head indicating that she would take care of it. Will didn't have the time to argue the matter.

Standing just to the left of the door he let Emma take a couple of steps away before he softly called out her name. She froze turning towards him in a manner that could only be described as fearful. Up until that moment, until he saw the evidence of how scared she was in her eyes he had been borderline angry. Wordlessly he reached his hand out grabbing hers as he led her out of the restaurant.

He didn't try to keep a hold of Emma's hand once they were in the parking lot. They both walked beside each other neither saying anything, neither knowing where to start.

The drive back to the apartment had been deadly silent but it was fine with Will it had given him some time to gather his scattered thoughts and get a handle on some of his frustration that had yet to leave. He could tell by the way Emma's head hung down as her hands lay listlessly in her lap that her fear had morphed into guilt and frustration on his part wouldn't do anyone any good.

As soon as the car shut off he opened his door walking around to the passenger side at a pace that didn't really fit into fast or slow. He felt like a kid heading home dreading having to tell his parents he broke the neighbors' window with a baseball.

Emma made no attempt to get out of the car when he opened her door so he knelt down at her side simply telling her that he wasn't mad then asking if she would come inside. He wasn't going to force her into anything. If she wanted to stay in the car all night then he would let her. He would also return with enough blankets for both of them because there was no way he would ever let her sleep out here alone.

A few minutes passed before Emma finally got out mumbling something about needing to brush her teeth. Taking the time to not only close her door but lock the car Will had to jog slightly to catch up with her. Turning her around and he drew her into his chest placing his lips against her forehead as he repeated that he was not mad.

Emma's façade started to crumble as a few tears found their way down her cheek. Taking one of her hands in his he led her into the complex. The only sound between them was the sound of Emma's increasingly rapid breathing. Will prayed that they got into the apartment before she started to break down completely.

Her breaths were lengthening blurring together as she exhaled only to sharply inhale immediately after. Stealing a glance down the hallway Will stopped slouching so that his face was directly in front of Emma's.

"Hey, come on. We're almost there. You're fine."

Even though he hadn't done much his words calmed her long enough for them to get inside her apartment. He had been expecting her to come completely unglued as soon as they set foot in the door. In fact he had actually prepared himself for some sort of physical struggle which is why he couldn't do anything but stand dumbly next to the door as she calmly walked into the bathroom before just as calmly walking to the couch allowing her body to ungracefully fall backwards as she drew her knees up to her chest.

Step by step he approached the couch stopping a few feet in front of her.

"Mind if I sit down?"

Emma scooted towards the middle of the couch and Will slid in easily behind her wrapping his arms around hers as she leaned against him.

"I'm sorry Will." her apology had been so soft that if it hadn't already been so quiet he would have missed it.

Will remained silent for a moment before responding.

"I'm not mad Em, disappointed yes, mad, no."

A lot of consideration had gone into his decision to use the word disappointment. He didn't want to come off as merely accepting what she had done and moving on even if that was all they could do. She needed to know that he wouldn't blindly accept her apologies every time something liked this happened. He wasn't holding tonight's events against her he just wasn't completely writing them off either.

Will wasn't sure how long they sat on the couch but at some point Emma had stretched out along him. Gently Will began to massage her shoulders as Emma relaxed against his touch. The air didn't seem so heavy. Nothing much had been said but they both seemed to have decided it was enough. He knew it would be addressed in a therapy session anyways along with the other issue that was in the wings.

Emma was the first to break the trance telling Will that she was going to be getting home before her on Monday.

Will dipped his head down leaving a trail of kisses down the side of her neck. Removing his hands from her back he wrapped them around her waist as he used his head to tilt her head to the side his lips finding the spot just beneath her ear.

"Guess I shouldn't change clothes then huh?"

He moved a hand to trail along one side of her body grazing her chest in the process chuckling as her nervous giggle turned into something else.

"Well then Ms. Pillsbury what do you suggest I wear?"

* * *

A/N: Enjoy? A reviewer mentioned Matthew Morrison's song "My Name" which is simply amazing and seriously you guys should all go check it out. I've been meaning to add this for a while but kept forgetting.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Okay I seriously wasn't planning on writing this and this but here you are just the same. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Will's POV**

The unwelcome visage of endless Virginia country side enveloped the rental van the way their lack of communication was enveloping them. Will sighed reaching for the knob on the radio as what had to have been the twentieth station succumbed to static. It had been fading in and out for a while but it was Will's last chance before he was left with country. He had found out a few miles back that hitting the search button only resulted in an endless loop of numbers. It was only by manually searching that he had found this one. Trying his luck again he wanted to bang his head against the steering wheel as the twang that had yet to grow on him filtered through the speakers as he admitted defeat. it was better than the uneasy tension between them and without a doubt more endurable than the white-noise that Will was beginning to think might have been their only companion until a stray signal cropped up somewhere along a stretch of highway. _No wonder she grew up with this stuff. _

At six in the morning Emma's father had called telling her that she needed to come down and get her stuff. He didn't want to stay on the farm anymore and honestly Will couldn't blame him. Their routine had been severely disrupted as Emma had started to panic racing about yet neatly folding clothes into a yellow suitcase. Will's clothes were thrown haphazardly into a duffel bag. In her flurry of nervous energy he also hadn't been able to convince her to eat anything other than oatmeal for breakfast. He had the sneaking suspicion that the meal would become a staple for the next few days but it hadn't stopped him from secretly packing some sandwiches slipping them casually into his bag while Emma took her shower. If he nullified the event last night Emma had been making what he considered to be admirable progress. If he thought about the fact that all of that progress had taken place in situations that were familiar and relatively stress-free he could foresee the next five days undermining both of their efforts and he could do nothing but pray that it would confine it's sabotage to the days ahead. Emma had only wanted to take two days off but considering the effort it was taking to get down the

All of their appointments had been cancelled for the had to be bumped back a week while Figgins had begrudgingly granted them both leave after Will had basically said he wouldn't be at school anyways. As it was Emma was using family leave and he was using sick days. He had dialed Shannon's number imploring if she would take over Glee for the week. It had taken some convincing and his assurance that the kids were only fine-tuning a well known routine for the upcoming sectionals competition to get her to agree. The task of hiring a substitute for his Spanish class at such short notice had been absolute hell and he hoped that whoever Holly Holiday was would turn out to be an okay teacher.

For the first few miles Will had made futile attempts to engage Emma in meaningless small talk steering clear of anything that would even fall close to serious. About a mile later he turned his attention to the radio. Emma had pulled into herself before they had even left the apartment. Will had been prepared for her to cry, to scream that this wasn't fair, that she shouldn't have to be doing this, not yet. To be honest he would have preferred that reaction. The huddled form next to him was treading dangerously close to the Emma he had witnessed at the hospital.

The growling in his gut was demanding food. He needed to eat before a headache set in. Coming across a rest stop he pulled in not saying anything to Emma as he opened the hatch. His legs were protesting hours of being in the same position and the small walk around the back of the van was a nice reprieve. Of course his bag would be buried at the bottom. Setting Emma's suitcase on the ground along with bags that he did not remember packing on the ground he rummaged around before his hands finally came into contact with a zip-lock bag. There were two. One for him and one for her it was probably pointless but he was going to try anyways. Repacking everything with less care than Emma would have was sure to earn him a glare but he didn't have the time to take her usual measures of precision. They were as second nature to her as they were foreign to him.

A small red, wooden picnic table was a few yards away. It looked far more enticing then crawling back into the driver's seat. Stepping over to the passenger side he opened Emma's door motioning for her to get out. The fresh air would do her good. It was a nice day here the sun beat down against his back as they made their way to a shade tree. Even Emma's posture had relaxed as soon as she had stepped outside. Apparently even the Mysophobia took a back seat to a warm day.

Throwing one leg over the bench as he slid to the middle of the table he retracted a portion of his earlier thought as Emma wiped down a small section of chipped, red wood before sitting down across from him. Pulling his sandwich out of the bag he offered a half of the other opting to take a bite instead of trying again. He did leave the section sitting between them just in case. Just in case never came after and after a quick bathroom break they were speeding towards a situation Emma wanted nothing to do with once again.

From stories here and there he had pieced together that her mom was anything but tidy. Emma had spent much of her childhood picking up after mother who after a while just accepted that it would be done. If Emma went very long without cleaning her mother would accuse her of not doing anything around the house. Listening to the list of things Emma had taken care of he almost felt guilty for his responsibilities having being confined to taking care of Allegro, keeping his room somewhat presentable and taking out the trash.

A feminine voice with a decidedly pronounced twang pulled him from his trip down memory lane. The artist, whoever she was, wasn't bad she definitely had a broad range. It wasn't often that Emma sang country songs around him knowing his distaste for the genre. She would purposefully play them but he could only recall a few occasions when she had joined in. The sound of her voice now as it blended with the voice on the radio was music to his ears in more than the literal sense. Maybe he should start listening to more country. Hearing Emma flawlessly imitate the hallmark of every country song was unbearably cute.

Emma continued to sing prompting Will to join in making up his own lyrics about how absurd country songs were as he did so. He was trying to pin down the chorus until her laughter over his horribly over exaggerated line about cattle manure as he bent the notes so that the words were almost unrecognizable made him abandon the idea altogether. He needed to work on his improv skills anyways.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Her mounting stress about the impending therapy appointments after school was replaced and doubled when her father had called. She would gladly endure an entire day of therapy if it meant she could push this to the back burner. So far she had remained removed from many of the issues regarding her mothers' death. She called her dad often to see how he was doing and suppressed the occasional urge to give in and cry so successfully that she hadn't done so since that morning with Will. He had never broached that subject with her. Maybe he assumed she cried in private or maybe he knew the truth he was maddeningly perceptive with these types of things. Either way she was perfectly content to sweep the whole experience under a rug that was threatening to tear it covered so many issues.

The thoughts and accusations wouldn't leave her alone for a second. _Why do I have to do this now? Why did he wait until the last minute to tell me he was moving? Why couldn't he have just stayed on the farm In the first place?_

That last wasn't fair and she knew it. She wouldn't want to remain in the place that held over thirty years of memories if the person she loved was no longer there to share it with her. Her father was close to retirement age anyways and he had been a very successful dairy farmer. It wasn't like he didn't have the means to relocate into town. She wished he would just take all of her stuff with him. _So you can sort through it after he dies? _

As she hurriedly grabbed whatever clothes she could lay her hands on pausing only to fold them in a manner so practiced it was barely an interruption in her activities she attempted to banish the thought from her mind. Ever since her mom's death the thought of the unalterable fate that would befall her father would not leave her alone. He had been the one to wrap things up after mom died meaning she had no idea what to do when he died. Not only would there be things to go through but issues of the estate would have to be addressed and her knowledge in that area was beyond severely lacking. A psychology professor had once told her that when you lose the other parent you really do feel like an orphan. She had said it was one of the most profound moments in her life because right then she realized that she no longer had parents. She had answered Emma's question before she had even figured out how to word it and Emma could still recall her words.

"No matter how many people are in your life, no matter how much you love them or they love you the feeling never quite goes away."

The information was both comforting and unsettling at the same time. She had read something similar once about children of divorced parents. Growing up they were always caught in the middle of issues no matter how much the adults might go out of their way to avoid such a thing. The middle-aged products of divorced families in the book talked about how at eighteen they were ecstatic that the divorce decree would no longer be in effect only to learn they wanted nothing more than to have it back. That decree had been their decision maker for years. It had demanded where they went and when and to suddenly have that power coupled with the fear of disappointing a parent were the motivating factors behind keeping the rules the same until they went off to college. Her parents were like that divorce decree for much of her life they had governed her and once she had moved away she missed that consistency the shelter they provided from the harsh reality of the real world. Losing her parents meant she had the daunting task of undertaking her life without their input just like those teenagers had to learn to navigate their own life without the court-ordered agreement they hadn't really given much thought to until it was gone.

It was a few seconds before she realized her gaze wasn't really being held by anything as she replayed that day in her professor's office. It was the click of her suitcase locking that brought her back to the present. This was an unacceptable development, an intrusion into a routine that provided safety even if Will was slightly altering aspects of it. Right now she didn't want any changes she wanted the comfort of things being how they should be even if it did mean she would disappoint Will.

He was currently occupied in the bathroom assuming he would be a while she reached for the measuring cup and oatmeal an unreal calm settling over her as she recalled the days when what she was doing right now had been commonplace. When they had been routine.

She didn't hear Will enter the kitchen until he attempted to change her mind telling her that they had the time for him to make something for breakfast. Emma's decision had been made ever since the phone call that had turned everything on its side. There were going to be enough disruptions today she didn't need another one. As she took the same amount of precision she had used in the past pouring the oats and adding water she didn't turn around choosing the bowl rotating in the microwave in front of her to over the expression she knew she would find on Will's face.

_It was nice wasn't it, going back to oatmeal. Think about how it will taste. It won't be like any of that stuff he forces into you. This will be safe. For once you are doing something right. Savor it, the taste of success because even you know it's only a matter of time until it's shattered._

The ding of the microwave is what drove the voice's words home. That sound had been the source of a small amount of joy for so long. It had meant that she was taking the right steps to succeed at something. Even now when Will used the microwave the sound instantly brought back memories of four or less bowls of oatmeal a day. There was a point buried in there the voice's reasoning. It would be a nice switch from the terror filled meals of the past couple weeks.

Her purposefully monosyllabic responses to Will's questions at the start of the drive were soon unnecessary as he opted that the radio was better than her clear disinterest in conversation. She really didn't feel like talking about anything least of all petty things like Glee club or Sue's latest hair joke. It was impossible for her to take part in such light-hearted topics when the topics in her mind weighed a ton. She shouldn't have to be doing this. Eventually she knew she would have to get her stuff out of her parents' house it just wasn't supposed to be this soon and it definitely wasn't supposed to be under these circumstances. Her mom had always joked that she would be at Emma's side trying to salvage everything Emma wanted to throw away and Emma had always retorted that she was perfectly fine with that as long as she didn't have to deal with it later. It was later and she was dealing with it. Her mom had kept things that she was almost certain no other parent would. There were boxes of sloppy creations Emma had came home from preschool with. There were boxes of essays and notes that had more than once found their out of the trash by a not so mysterious force. One time she had been watching an old home video where she had been giving a pen that vibrated when you wrote with it causing the line to be all squibbly. Emma didn't know whether to laugh or roll her eyes when her mom disappeared momentarily only to reappear with the page her four year old self was scribbling on. It was surreal, watching herself create the nonsense design as she held it in her hands able to tell where the next line would be drawn.

When they stopped for Will to eat she didn't even give the sandwich half he offered the slightest consideration content to not destabilize the balance she had found between this unexpected event and her sanity.

Will was obviously desperate to not listen to a country station and she smiled slightly to herself knowing that his efforts to locate one had been thwarted two miles back. He didn't know it yet but he had just lost a battle that could never be won for the next few hours. It was a Reba McCantire song that finally loosened her up. She was always self-conscious singing country songs around Will. He was such an incredibly talented singer and was always trying to join in with songs making up his own lyrics if he didn't know the words. The last thing she wanted to do was rob him of a tendency she secretly found adorable by forcing country on him. She played it once in a while to annoy him and his attempts were comical because it was so rare for him to not be able to get something on the first few tries. Swallowing her uncertainty she began to sing along about a woman who was a survivor. This song had been a favorite of not only Emma but her mother as well. She didn't have to put any effort into trying to recall the lyrics almost like it was just yesterday that they had been riding in the car hitting the skip back button for hours. Her laughter couldn't be helped when Will finally gave in making up his own lyrics that were obviously designed to poke fun.

* * *

Gravel crunched under the tires as Will maneuvered the car down the winding lane towards a large two story farmhouse. The house was over a hundred years old at least the original part. Her dad had grown up here his parents at some point added a larger kitchen and a bathroom. As she stepped out of the car the smell of manure instantly transported her back to that day when she was seven and she leaned against the car pinching the bridge of her nose willing the flashbacks to flash back to where they had came from.

The feeling of her nose being pinched between Will's thumb and index finger diffused the situation entirely and she giggled when he replaced his fingers with a chaste kiss commenting that if this was the smell of money he would live in a cardboard box no problem. Emma had forgotten that Will had no experience on a farm. It was in that moment that Emma started the long and difficult process of convincing herself that she was going to show Will some of the stupid childhood activities she had engaged in. Even after her accident there were certain things she was still able to do and she wanted to share those with him. She loved the childish side of Will it always managed to bring out her own care-free nature she thought she lost long ago.

Will opened the door to the back of the van and Emma grabbed the bag she had thrown in at the last minute. Its contents were nothing that out of the ordinary but the reason she had packed them were. Heading towards the door there was a small piece of paper taped to the front.

"_Hey tweetiebug, you guys are probably going to get back before we do. We had to run into town to pick up a few things should be back before ten tonight. There is food in the refrigerator feel free to help yourselves. Tell Will to just make himself at home. ~Love dad._

Emma ducked her head smiling at the pet name she hadn't heard her dad use in years. When Will snuck up behind her she wasn't sure but she was absolutely certain she was never going to live the tweetiebug thing down. The amusement as he repeated the endearment had been too strong for him to not tease her about it at some point.

"Hey tweetiebug open the door. I don't want to stand here holding your suitcase until the cows come home." He had tripped over the nickname almost losing it within his chuckle.

"The cows are home Will. They aren't out to pasture right now."

Will only snorted something about her ruining his joke by interpreting it literally. Emma rolled her eyes at the door in response. He was trying to cover the fact that he honestly didn't know where the cows were.

With a deep breath Emma opened the door her eyes landing on the stone wall of the hallway. Everything looked the same. The closet to the left still contained an odd assortment of coats and coveralls, shoes and work boots and of course the ever present baseball caps with almost every feed grain logo that existed. Straight ahead was the kitchen with the same wooden table she had grown up with. The green beaded curtain she had always thought was hideous was still dangling along the sides of the window above the sink. Entering the kitchen she noticed that the bar sectioning off this room for the living room was just as disorganized as ever and that her dad's part of the table was still covered in farmer's magazines. The pictures of a younger version of herself often the victim of some prank of her brother still adorned the fridge. Even the picture of a horse she had proudly drawn two scribbles on and presented to her mother was still held onto the appliance by a Mickey Mouse magnet.

There were only three chairs at the table. They were always four.

Turning around she rammed directly into Will's chest his arms catching her as she stumbled backwards slightly. The reason she was standing in the doorway to the kitchen was starting to sink in so she grabbed Will's hand leading him through the beige-carpeted living room and up the steep sickeningly brownish-orange stairs. Will had stopped following her when they reached the top forcing her to look back at him. Her uneasiness momentarily eclipsed as he stared down at the carpet.

"What the hell?" his voice was a cross between amusement and shock as he just like every other person who had made it to the top of these stairs was transfixed by the unexpected absurdity of the fabric beneath his feet.

"It was scraps they had left over from something. You get used to it." Emma hadn't given the bordering on shag dark blue carpet mottled with light blue patches of varying shapes and sizes any thought since she was a little girl. Grabbing his hand again she led him down a long hallway making a left ninety degree turn to pull him through another before stopping at a light pink door.

Her father had told her over the phone that they had been throwing anything they thought she might be interested in into her room. Opening the door her eyes widened in shock. She hadn't thought her dad had been serious when he said throwing.

There were boxes everywhere so much so that her childhood twin bed was buried. One narrow path led from the door to the bed but everything else was a complete disaster. Emma had taken great care to leave everything in her room organized before she left for college. She had boxed everything up neatly going as far as to label them in black sharpie. When she left her room even though it was devoid of almost all furnishings expect for a bed and nightstand had been the cleanest place in the house. This was unacceptable.

Will sensed her distress wrapping his arms around her from behind resting his chin on her shoulder as he told her it wouldn't take that long to organize things into piles. He was always so rational devising simple solutions to problems Emma didn't even know where to start with. Forcing her way through the small space allotted she moved over to the speakers that she had intentionally left behind years ago. This hadn't been the reason then but she was glad for her decision now. Opening the bag that had remained firmly in her grasp she pulled out an FM transmitter locating a static filled station before switching her ipod on relaxing as the room was flooded with an odd assortment of show tunes that were no doubt the influence of the man next to her. Swaying slightly to the first song she moved to pick up the first box carefully placing it on the bed. She did the same until there was a small space cleared in the corner next to her closet. Starting with the biggest boxes she began stacking them delighting in every inch of purple carpet that became visible.

* * *

**Will's POV**

He wasn't sure about the carpet he was treading over but he was sure that the room he now found himself standing in could not be a better interpretation of Emma. The walls were a light purple offsetting the deep purple of the thick carpet that peeked out between mountains of boxes.

It was obvious that she had not been expecting the sight that greeted them. He would have bet money that her room had been immaculate with neatly labeled boxes when she left home. Momentarily he was angry with Emma's father. He should have had more consideration than this when he knew how his daughter reacted to messes. Attempting to put a damper on her rising anxiety he swayed her body slightly as he told her that it would be okay, that they could organize everything first before they started to sort it.

The green bag she had refused to let go he was surprised to find contained her ipod and FM transmitter. Before he could question why she had brought it along the sounds of Gloryday filled the room. Some of the tension in Emma's body visibly lessoned as she began to move with the music tackling ground zero for her anxiety box by box.

To say that he was confused about her playing music was an understatement. If he were in her shoes it would be the last thing he would do. The idea didn't even sound appealing but it was helping Emma so he didn't say anything as he aided her in stacking the boxes until the center of the room and the bed were clear only the walls showing the evidence of why they were here.

Will really wanted to talk to her but it was impossible over the sounds of Defying Gravity from Wicked. He was just about to turn the music off when he felt Emma's arms violently try to pull him away as she let out a strangled "No, leave it on. Please."

Keeping his grip on the device as soon as it became evident that Emma was trying to snatch it away he turned to face her. Her eyes were full of desperation. She was pleading silently with him to leave the music on. He pressed and held the bottom of the circle watching Emma's face switch to anger in a second. She made another pass which he swiftly blocked placing the ipod behind his back. He knew why she had the music now.

"Will, why did you do that? I asked you not to turn it off. Why-" her voice broke as a tear rolled down her face.

Reaching out to take a hold of her arm she jerked away from him kicking one of the boxes over before moving to another each time using more force. She was screaming now a raw, painful, forlorn sound that broke his heart. He made no move to stop her. This was all part of the process. The process she had held at bay for far too long. He waited as her assault on the boxes became more sporadic as she felt the fatigue her endorphins had been blocking.

She slowly folded in on herself settling to the ground as she crashed onto her side tucking up into the fetal position as the sobs started to spill out. Kneeling beside her Will placed a hand on her elbow before he moved it behind her knees placing the other underneath her shoulder gently picking her up from the floor as he headed in the direction of the bed. Carefully he laid her down on the yellow quilt crawling up behind her as she once again twisted herself into a tight ball. Resting an arm across her hip and bent legs he cupped her knee slightly. He could tell she was trying to hold back what clearly needed to happen. She had gone so far out of her way to distance herself from everything regarding her mom's death and she couldn't afford to do it anymore. Burying his head against her neck he scooted so that he was wrapped around her his legs bent under hers as he spoke softly.

"Sweetie you can't keep running from this. You can't make it go away with music. "

"It's so quiet. I don't want it to be quiet. That means she's gone." Emma's sentence was broken into fragments by her efforts to stop the sobs that threatened to break through her wall.

"I know Em I know. Don't be embarrassed, just cry. Get it out."

It had taken a while for Emma to give in to the emotions that were coursing through her. Her elongated wails separated only by large gulps of air reminded him of the night he had spent at the motel where he had lost it against the door. He planted soft kisses along the back of her head as she sniffled unsuccessfully keeping the snot from draining out of her nose. That was probably mortifying for her, him not only seeing her like this but seeing that as well. Somewhere he had seen a roll of paper towels untangling his limbs from hers he scanned the room finally locating them in a far corner. A murmured thank you as he snuggled up behind her again was met by silence. Will closed his eyes amazed that one person could be so insecure about being insecure.

"Blow Em, I don't care really."

As soon as that obstacle had been effectively toppled another one took its place. Emma had turned to bury her face in his chest apologizing as her tears and once again useless attempts to stop her body's natural reaction to crying trickled onto his shirt. She pulled back slightly but before she could turn away Will pulled her against him again.

"It's okay. I hate this shirt anyways."

They had stayed that way for over two hours with Emma alternating between moments of relative calm and those of heart-wrenching keening wails. He had let her rest against him for about fifteen minutes after her breathing had evened out. She was about to fall asleep and she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"Em, Hey Em you can't fall asleep yet. We need to eat something."

"Not hungry." Her voice was heavy with exhaustion.

" I know you are tired but you need to eat. Come on, let's go downstairs."

Will could have carried Emma down the narrow stairway faster than they were moving. Reaching the kitchen he began to search the cupboards for anything Emma might consider eating keeping a watchful eye out for something substantial or at least more nutritionally sound than oatmeal. The sound of oats being poured a few feet away had him cursing to himself. Emma's family having oatmeal hadn't even crossed his mind. _Great._

Again he tried to persuade Emma to eat some of the chicken noodle soup he had found and again she refused. This entire thing was frustrating enough that it overrode his hunger. Sitting next to Emma he wearily stared at nothing in particular not having the energy to actually focus.

Emma hadn't even turned around from putting her bowl away when her father and brother barreled through the door. It was clear that the older man was going to say something before his smile turned pained when he saw his daughter. Her father's eyes landed on him next and Will had no problem interpreting the unspoken message that at some point he was going to be receiving the third degree.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma was relieved to find that her father still had oatmeal albeit a quick calculation had shown that it wouldn't last through the week. She was going to need an excuse to go into town tomorrow. It shouldn't be that hard to find one if she put some feelers out. There was always something her dad forgot no doubt because he neglected to take the list.

Crying as she had in front of Will had started out as downright humiliating. As time wore on his gentle words and reassuring caresses had gradually lessened her shame until the only thing that remained was raw emotion months untouched.

Her limbs had felt weighted, as heavy as her eyelids and she had been hoping Will would have been content to hold her as she drifted off to sleep. Piercing through the fog in her mind like a beacon was the knowledge that she hadn't eaten that evening which at the time had only been one more reason to stay in bed. Will's words were soft yet stern, unyielding to her feeble attempt to get out of a suggestion that really wasn't a suggestion.

All of these events brought her to where she was now, placing a hastily washed bowl in a hauntingly familiar cupboard next to the sink. Her recent meal meant more to her than simply being safe. The canister was a lingering reminder of her mother, something her father had not been able to throw away even though throughout the duration of his marriage her mother had never convinced him that it tasted good with raisins.

Worn-hinges on the storm door followed by the thud of steel-toed boots colliding to the floor signaled that her father and brother were back. The overwhelming, sickening odor that entered her nose not seconds later signaled that they had brought Kentucky Fried Chicken. Emma rested her forehead against her still raised arm. They had driven twenty miles to the neighboring town to get one of the few "messy" things she was still able to eat. It had been a childhood favorite much like her mother's oatmeal cookies but she wasn't a child anymore and the word favorite no longer applied to food.

"Hey you two sorry it got so late. We made a special trip for Emma on the way back. I checked and there isn't a KFC in Lima and I know how much you loved this as a little girl." Her father's voice was full of love and warmth, barbs that left her torn between her weakening grip on safety and making him happy.

Plastering a smile on her face she bounded across the room side-stepping an antique creamer that had found a purpose in its later years as a coffee table when the kitchen table was covered in important papers as she pulled her father into a tight bear hug.

"Daddy I've missed you and thank you," Emma grabbed the bag setting it on the table behind her, "you didn't have to really." Her accent was thickening the way it always did when she was back in Virginia coloring her voice enough so the fear was buried in her happiness.

Her dad placed his hands on her shoulders pushing her a couple steps back as he chuckled heartily.

"Missed you too tweetiebug."

Before the sentence was even out his green and white Farmland Feed Company cap complete with a picture of wheat on the front was resting crookedly atop her head in a tradition she couldn't remember a time before.

As a girl she had loved to wear his hats but after the accident she had never wanted to wear the ones he wore while he worked so he always made sure to pick up two wherever they were handed out so when he came in from outside each evening Emma could have a hat that matched his. She had always left it on through supper mimicking her father and there was so much comfort behind the small gesture now that her ideas about excusing herself vanished.

Emma reached up tucking her hair behind her ears as she straightened the cap. Retracing her steps towards the cupboard she had just closed Will caught her by the arm pulling her in close.

"You look adorable. I won't ever make fun of a song about the farmer's daughter again."

It had been a running gag after Will's last tie to sanity as he had called it faded into static that almost every other song was about the farmer's daughter. She hadn't given it much thought before but when she started paying attention they were all over the place. Will's logic was something along the lines of people not knowing how to rhyme anything more complicated.

As she moved around the kitchen while small talk started to fill the air Emma was oddly comforted that all of the dishes were tucked into their proper places. Her mom may have been horrible about putting things away but she always had an exact location in mind when she did.

Balancing so many plates as she carefully sat them around the table felt foreign but her practiced movements belied that the task had been hers since childhood. Will stood up to take the glasses from her motioning for her to sit down as he pulled her chair out. Emma could feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks. Nothing he had just done was anything more than Will being Will. All the same she wondered if the other men would perceive it as some sort of "I know how to treat a lady," stunt. Looking up briefly her father's weather-worn face showed nothing but respect for the man who was now setting glasses of water in front of them.

Her brother however had been on the verge of a smart-aleck remark when he doubled in pain as her father kicked him in the shin. To an outsider the physicality may have seemed unnecessary but to them it was just a game, a more boy-oriented tradition than the one that still sat on her head.

"Hey Em, white or dark meat?" there was a barely discernable tint of uncertainty in his tone.

Emma smiled into her lap as Will even though he was the object of two confused sets of eyes fished around for the smallest pieces of white meat he could find.

It was like being back at Pizza Hut with the push and pull stalemate of normal versus safe tuning out much of the conversation around her as she glared at the chicken.

"Tell it to shut up. They're starting to stare. You can do this Em." His hushed encouragement pushed her further towards normal fraying somewhat the pull of safe.

Very meticulously she worked her way through the wing thinking nothing of it as she tore everything into small chunks before placing them one by one in her mouth.

"What's up Ems? You turn into a bird in Lima? Geez."

Sometimes her brother meant well but more often than not he was indifferent to the effect of his words. It would only be a matter of time before he said the wrong thing while Will was still in hearing range. He often would chastise Emma about her Mysophobia purposefully doing things that would stop her in her tracks before teasing her about being crazy but he only did this when they were alone and she had Will and Will meant she wouldn't be alone. Her brother wouldn't be able to resist and Emma found herself looking forward to that moment, to Will standing up for her, defending her while knocking her brother off the high-horse he had been riding since childhood.

Emma's lack of a response eventually caused her brother to lose interest in the topic of her eating habits. The comment had been mild for him but Will's hand had found her knee just the same.

Picking her way through the second piece Will had given her she for once was glad about having to navigate all the bones in a chicken breast. The very reason she had refused this portion as a child was the key factor in her choosing it today. Not only did it mean she had an excuse to eat slower but it afforded one for tearing it into pieces as well.

So far she had been successful in drowning out the voice. There wasn't really anything it could do when the years of memories behind a baseball cap had decided for her that she would eat a breast and a wing.

A jarring, cold cynicism flooded into her mind sweeping away any reminants of normalcy when her brother tossed a thigh onto her plate.

"Here, saved it for ya. Remember how we used to fight over it growing up? I'll give this one to ya free of charge for all those years I won. Besides it looks like you could use some fat in your diet."

The meaning veiled in talk of childhood was clear. He was intentionally calling her out on something he could have brought up in private. He was forever on the lookout for conflict and where he couldn't find it he caused it.

_Have you found you're normal yet? That word…fat…that was aimed right at you. Stupid bitch you're failing at this too. The oatmeal was a good start but now you've gone and fucked it up just like you did last night. You don't have any self-control. Weak bitch._

Emma tried a couple methods Dan had suggested but each one had the same result of two voices yelling. Trying to void the accusations was just as effective as counting to fifty had been and she had only made it to twenty-seven.

_Just eat it. Everyone here thinks you are disgusting anyways. Why not give them a show? Everyone likes dinner and a show._

Shooting her brother a forced smile Emma bypassed tearing the meat into pieces and instead took a large bite. She wasn't really taking the time to chew wanting this gone just as much as she had wanted the pizza gone last night. The voice wasn't making sense. One second it was cheering her on telling her to enjoy being a fat failure and the next it berated her for eating in the first place. She didn't notice that everyone had stopped their own meals to watch as she devoured hers. As she began a similar assault on a "home-made" biscuit she felt Will's hand on her back as his breath ghosted across her ear.

"Em, slow down," there was nothing condescending in his words only an emphasized slightly more than suggested suggestion. He was good at those.

_Good going now he is embarrassed by you. Don't you feel stupid sitting here with all of the evidence of your failure staring you in the face? Can you blame him? Would you want to sit next to someone who was shoveling grease-covered fat into their mouth?_

Despite feeling that there may have been a point somewhere in her monologue Emma did slow down. Slowing down turned to doing nothing which was nipping on the heels of a panic that was spurred on by a deep-seated loathing. She felt everything and nothing jumping between accepting that she was a weak bitch to being removed from the whole situation.

_What you were expecting?_

* * *

**Will's POV**

Everyone was staring at Emma. Will held his breath hoping she wouldn't revert back into one of her standby "I'm eating something unsafe" practices. Her brother's question about Emma turning into a bird whether it be innocent or not was not working in favor of Will's liking him.

"Here, saved it for ya. Remember how we used to fight over it growing up? I'll give this one to ya free of charge for all those years I won. Besides it looks like you could use some fat in your diet."

Will officially hated that man diagonally opposite him. There was no reason he needed to bring up her weight right now. His attempt to disguise his addition of a thigh onto Emma's plate with a childhood story was not working on Will. If he could have gotten away with it he would have lunged across the table and throttled the man. Mentally beating the crap out of someone didn't hold a candle to physically beating the crap out of them.

Not caring what Emma's father thought Will threw a harsh glare in the direction of her brother. I know what you're doing and you had better watch your back.

A combination of sadness on his behalf and embarrassment on Emma's he watched her lose every inch of ground to the intruder in her mind as she tore into the thigh the same way she had the cookies, the pizza. He didn't want to make a big deal out of her behavior but it was doing a decent job of doing so itself. Both her father and brother were staring at her with expressions that Will was thankful he couldn't read. He really didn't want to know what they were thinking. The deal had already been made it couldn't be made any smaller.

"Em, slow down."

He studied her carefully for any indication she might snap under his words. He could only imagine what was going through her mind now. Probably something about how he was embarrassed by her actions. At some point he was going to have to assure her that he was not, nor would he ever be, embarrassed by her. Right now he just wanted to break through enough so she would stop eating so fast. He did not want a repeat of last night. There was enough self-hatred on the horizon without that end result.

Emma gradually stopped and seemed uncomfortable close to slipping into the dissociation that so often overtook her when she couldn't handle everything anymore. It had taken some fast and not convincing even to himself talking to excuse them both so he could get Emma to her room.

It was like dragging an anvil trying to get her up the stairs. They were too narrow for him to carry her and even if he did she would bump her head against the ceiling. Kneeling over the seventies-themed carpet one stair above her Will brought his hand to her chin.

"It's a lot more comfy in the bed then on the stairs I promise."

He was ready to insert some sort of slightly suggestive comment but Emma slowly rose to her feet clamoring to the top of the stairs disappearing around the corner seconds later. Will followed slowly wondering what he was going to find in the room that looked so innocent like it should be able to exile Emma's dark thoughts by the sheer childishness of its colors.

Emma was curled up on the bed with her front to the wall pretty much the picture of what Will had envisioned in his mind. Sliding in behind her he removed the cap that had somehow managed to maintain its position. He smiled when he thought how her face had lit up when her father placed it on her head. His comment about farmer's daughter country songs had been one hundred percent true. Emma needed to wear one of these every day.

Pulling her against him he draped his arm over her hip his hand coming to rest lightly over her stomach. Emma's head jerked up violently cracking into his jaw as she pressed herself against the wall.

"Don't touch me there."

The cold malice behind her explanation was the exact opposite of what he had been anticipating. Usually she was awash in self-hatred but was open to being held. He considered listening to her but when he put himself in her shoes that would only seem like a cold refusal. She didn't want him to leave her alone. Not really.

This time he moved forward so that Emma was effectively trapped between him and the wall as he carefully placed his hand back over her stomach allowing it to rest there. Emma tensed and told him again to move his hand.

"I don't want to move my hand. I like touching you here. I like the way you feel."

He was walking a slippery slope. Every time he called her beautiful in any sort of intimate situation he was always afraid it was going to manifest that he thought her current condition was beautiful. The term would never cease to apply to her in his book he would just feel safer saying it when he didn't have to worry about her misinterpreting it as reinforcement for losing weight. Likewise saying that he liked touching her stomach just now was the same battle on a slightly different incline. It was true he did like feeling her stomach when there was evidence she had just eaten. These were tricky issues he usually avoided tackling. It bothered him that he could feel her bones as much as he did. The sensation of running his hands up her body and distinctly being able to count her ribs was beyond uncomfortable. Her hip bones were something he usually avoided brushing his hands over and so far she hadn't seemed to notice. He hated himself for the way he felt when he touched her, looked at her. None of it was enough to quell his arousal however. The mere thought that he was kissing the woman fate had been hell-bent on denying him was more than enough in that department. Even when she was better he would never bring any of these things up unless she asked. He felt like he was betraying her in some manner like he wasn't being honest but the alternative of telling her that it was unsettling to feel her body so frail and skeleton-like wasn't an option. He couldn't do that to her. The only result of such a confession would be magnifying the body image problems she had to begin with before the disorder quadrupled them.

The sound of Emma talking to herself spared him from traveling any further down that road. Her words were heavily slurred the byproduct of repeating the same lines over and over. He listened quietly to figure out what she was saying. It became obvious that she was apologizing to herself for her behavior when he could make out the words, "I'm sorry, I don't want to be fat. I'm sorry," on a never-ending loop. This was the first time he had ever heard her out loud pleading for forgiveness from the thing that should look in the mirror and forgive her.

"Whoa, hey stop it. Don't apologize for what you did tonight. You ate Em and I'm proud of you."

"…but I'm going to get fat. You'll leave me when I get fat."

Will attempted to work his way around the lump that had formed in his throat. Is that what she thought? Is that what she had convinced herself he was going to do? A lot of things made more sense now. Her stubborn refusal to accept his comforting after she had eaten was a defense mechanism. She wasn't going to open herself up to the betrayal that in her mind she thought was inevitable. The way she clung to him after she calmed down clicked into place as well. She was physically trying to keep him from abandoning her. How many times had she thought he was going to walk out of her life because of food? Even though he was afraid of those answers, afraid of his own self-hatred for not picking up on this without her having to put it so bluntly and terrified to hear just how often she thought she was going to lose him he wanted to hear them anyways just not right now.

"You haven't said anything. You're going to leave aren't you? You're disgusted by me. You can't stand to be around someone so fat. You-"

Will rolled her over silencing her with a loving kiss his mouth not leaving hers until she began to kiss back.

"I'm not going to leave you because of food," he paused he had been planning on saying that he would love her no matter what she looked like but that was placing him right back on the border of reinforcing the wrong thing on the off chance he might encourage the right one, "and you are without a doubt, positively, absolutely stuck with me. I love you Emma and I know you love me too but please say it for me. Tell me that you love me."

Although he wasn't exactly sure why he was asking her to say those words he had been overcome with an overpowering desire to hear them for her to confirm that despite everything that was going on, everything they had been through and everything they would be facing that she loved him. This was one of a handful of times were he felt insecure and the first time he had sought comfort from the woman he loved. Usually he was the one pushing her along but right now, just for tonight he wanted help too.

Emma turned to face him her gaze returning his as she softly placed a short almost non-existent kiss against his lips.

"I love you Will."

* * *

A/N: and now on to more important things (according to those pesky individuals known as college professors) like reading a world lit book and producing a Shakespeare essay by Wednesday...both of which I had planned on doing this weekend. It was in the forties today and yesterday, totally not my fault for procrastinating!


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: The whole time I was writing this there was something that I kept reminding myself I had to put in an author's note and now I don't remember. Whatever it is I think is was covering my a** for something. It might have been the whole "dont' be surprised if her family develops names because when I wrote the chapter where her mom died I wasn't planning on having them play this large a role in the story" thing. aka please don't flame me for that.

Kudos to the review who called the theme for this chapter! I was already working on it when I read the review. I'm attempting to cut them some breaks so be nice please:)

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

**Will's POV**

Will had not been expecting the bathroom to be almost completely pink. The short carpet was a light pink, the tiled walls along the bathtub were pink and white swirled together. Even the towels were a deep shade of pink. It was far too confined a space for the circle he wanted to pace in. During the night he had decided that he was going to call Dan for some advice. It had taken some skillful maneuvering but he had been able to extract his arm that had somehow become Emma's pillow without moving her too much. The unbearable tingling sensation in said limb meant it must have been there for quite awhile. He still wasn't sure how he had managed to get down here undetected. Every single stair creaked and no matter where he placed his foot hoping to avoid the current noise another ten times louder would replace it.

_8:30 am. I should be able to call. They opened at eight. Do I want to call? I need to call. What am I doing? _

Ignoring the tennis match in his head Will pressed the send button for the number he had typed into his phone a full ten minutes ago. _There is no way I'm going to get anyone, let alone be able to talk with him. I'm going to get a secretary and then I'm going to hang up and forget that I called in the first place._

He stopped midstride when a warm, raspy voice asked who he wanted to be directed to. "Dan? What are you-this is Will. Why are answering?" _Nice._

Dan's hushed voice caused him to press the phone closer in an attempt to catch his words. From what he could gather the lady who usually manned the front desk was late and Dan's first client had cancelled so he had been delegated the job of pseudo secretary.

Will was on the verge of saying he would call back even though he knew there was no chance that he was going to. He was regretting this every second he was on the line. Nervously he ran his hand through his hair as Dan greeted the secretary saying that he would call Will back from his office. _Why am I doing this? Is he even going to know what to say?_

Gritting his teeth Will jumped right in after a few pleasantries were exchanged revisiting his conversation last night about how Emma was afraid he would leave her if she gained weight. He sat down on the edge of the tub as he begrudgingly admitted that she had probably felt this way for some time, that it explained a lot of her behaviors including the apparent lack of middle ground between her being overly clingy and unbelievably distant.

"I guess where I'm going with this is I know I'm up against this disordered mindset of hers and I don't know how to get through that. I realize you can't give me a clear-cut solution but I'm just looking for some advice and you're the advice guy so congratulations you got the job." Will grimaced.

"I demand twenty dollars a minute. Start talking." Will could hear the man's grin and some of the tension relinquished its hold on his body as he relaxed his posture letting his elbows rest on his knees.

"I'm positive it's twisting not only everything I say but everything I do and sometimes it succeeds in convincing her that I will walk out and that's what worries me. We aren't going to get anywhere if she can't learn to believe me when I say I won't leave her. I know she has a lot of insecurities and that the voice in her head only eggs them on and until these things can be fixed or at least rendered more manageable I'm okay with that. I will help her however I can even if it means stepping back to let her work through things, especially if it means that actually. I don't want her to think I will solve all of these problems. There's a precarious balancing act between her being dependent on me for support and whether or not she takes any of that support to heart, " Will paused, "I'm sorry… this was a really long-winded way of asking how I can get her to trust me, to trust what I say."

Dan dismissed his apology quietly mentioning it wasn't necessary. Will held his breath waiting for the other man's reply. It was released in a chuckle when Dan informed him his total so far was two hundred dollars. He really wanted to know how to fix this between them. He didn't need training of any kind to know it would forever be a monkey wrench firmly wedged in their relationship.

"Have you ever outright asked her if she trusts you?"

"Wouldn't that be a little blunt?"

"She needs blunt right now Will. What you say cannot have the potential to be manipulated into something that only works against you. Look, I have a client in ten minutes but I'm asking you to go with me on this one. Don't ask her in a stressful situation that will only make things worse. If she's stressed she will demand to know why you are asking. Choose a relaxed, borderline care-free moment when the voice won't be firing on all cylinders. She will be more open, more apt to listen. Its recycled advice but somewhere in the course of the day do something that has no strings attached, something that has no responsibilities or expectations on either party and when a casual moment rolls around just ask her."

"I don't know…" He was terrified of somehow misleading Emma into thinking he was accusing her of something.

"You can do this. You need to do this. Her having faith in you as you mentioned is a vital component in recovery just remember to have faith in her too."

Will thanked Dan for his time before he hung up as he thought about how he could possibly get Emma into a "borderline care- free environment" when the environment they were currently in was borderline care-full. A knock on the door caused him to nearly slide into the bathtub. Hoping to make it seem like he was actually in the bathroom for its intended purpose he pressed the lever on the toilet next to him yelling over the noise that he would be out in a minute.

He wasn't sure who he had been expecting to be on the other side of the door but it certainly wasn't Emma's father.

"Made some coffee, come have a cup." his voice held the same warmth it always seemed to have, the same magnetic pull that made it impossible to resist.

Will faltered running through possible excuses to simply head back upstairs. Nothing was plausible. Last night Emma had told her father that Will too, had a disgusting knack for guzzling coffee in the morning.

"How do you take your coffee? Go ahead, have a seat."

There went his as-of-yet-to-be-fabricated escape plan. With every step toward the kitchen his level of nervousness increased ten-fold. By the time he sat down he didn't need caffeine anymore his body was wired.

An aged, brown coffee cup was placed in front of him filled with black coffee and Will reflexively reached out and took a sip wondering if he continuously drank if he could dodge the untouched soon-to-be-touched elephant at hand. He really didn't want to have this talk right now. _I really don't want to have this talk ever. _

It should be Emma's choice to tell her father not his unwillingly imposed obligation. For a while he considered going that route, explaining that Emma would talk when she was ready but he knew both those variables would never coincide. He needed to intervene if for no other reason than to avoid a blood bath. Emma would immediately be defensive if her father said something and if Will tied up that end of the deal there were a plethora of unpleasant situations that could possibly be skirted around. All of this was dependent on his ability to convince the man sitting before him not to say anything to Emma, not to confront her and if he could accomplish that the larger issue namely Emma being mad at him for confiding in her father wouldn't blow up in his face.

"Will please be honest with me. What's going on with my daughter?"

_Daughter._

That one word held so many levels. Emma was his daughter and he was simply a concerned father. If Will put himself in his shoes he would be asking the same thing. He would want answers, honest ones. He would want reassurance. The man's voice had been sweet and tender like he used with Emma. It was the polar opposite of threatening, a simple inquiry that gave no indication of demanding an answer like he would accept it if Will declined to discuss anything.

" …She…we are going to therapy, both of us actually. She is seeing a nutritionist and I have slowly been working towards getting her to try new things. She has been making steps forward and making steps back but I would like to think that she is moving in the right direction. I can't say for sure but she seems more committed to trying to get better than she has in the past. I'm supporting her…encouraging her in every way that I can, seeking help when I don't know what to do."

Will looked up into her fathers' eyes. The confusion was being replaced with unshed tears and Will realized the man probably knew what he was going to say next before he said it. Saying what was going on with Emma was so simple. Never anything more than a simple string of words that would never do their subject justice.

"She has…an eating disorder. It set in gradually so gradually that I didn't notice. I should have realized what was going on long before I did. There were little signs everywhere and I was either completely oblivious or I rationalized them away. I won't go into any details because I do feel that is her prerogative but we are working on things. I'm not attempting to downplay her condition, it's serious but we are both trying. I want her to get better. I want her to be healthy and happy and back to the Emma that I know and love." Will's breath caught. He had just admitted that he loved this man's daughter.

Deciding not talking anymore was the wisest thing he could do Will waited to see what her father would say, waited to see if he would conveniently ignore his unintended declaration.

"I knew something was up. She's so skinny and last night…I've never seen her like that before. It was almost like she turned into some sort of wild animal. I noticed how you acted. You were bracing for her reaction as soon as that piece of chicken was dropped onto her plate. I didn't put two and two together then but it's making a bit more sense now as much as I can see anyways."

Will exhaled relieved nothing about his non-Freudian slip had been mentioned.

"Near as I can tell you're a good guy Will. A thoughtful, devoted, head over heels in love with the farmer's daughter guy. Stick around long enough and you'll learn to appreciate country I know that for sure. I mean it when I say that there is no one else I would want for my daughter. I don't know the entire story and it's not my place but from what I've gathered you've been by her side one hundred percent and then some. When you look at her there is nothing but love, some worry now and then but that just means you care. I mean this, there is no one I would rather my daughter be with than you and when the time comes I would be honored to give you her hand."

He couldn't talk. This topic that he had been so hell-bent on not discussing had in a span of seconds become one of the most cherished conversations he had ever had. Emma's father had just told him that he would be honored to give his daughter away. _To me, he would be honored to give his daughter away to me._

Marrying Emma was something that Will wanted more than anything. Watching her walk down the aisle in a white, flowing dress her red hair perfectly curled about her face while her eyes locked on his radiated love and excitement. He longed for the moment when they would say those two words and no matter how tacky it was he was going to sing to her. He still thought about these things they had just taken a back seat to the occupants in the front.

Before any of that could take place they had to work past the colossal road-block that was preventing their relationship from progressing as seamlessly as it probably would be. There would still be complications, no relationship was perfect but there wouldn't be this many complications. He had wondered before if he should bring the topic up. He would never just spring it on her. They would have discussed it, reached a conclusion and then he would allow it to fall by the wayside. He wanted Emma to be completely unprepared when he proposed and he wanted it to be unique.

"Thank you. That means more to me than you will ever know. I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"No thanks necessary I know you'll do right by her. Now what can I do to make her…I don't even know what I'm trying to say. I don't want to do something wrong, step on anything you might be trying to do. How do you know what to do?"

The number tag on how often he had felt completely helpless was so high that even though he knew he could count to it he would never remember what situations had increased the total. It was easier to believe the number was impossible to obtain. If he started counting now he might be done when he turned eighty.

"Honestly, trial and error and an amazing therapist. As far as what to do out here…I haven't that through very much yet. In the mornings I'm going to let her get by with oatmeal. It's one of the very few foods that she feels no guilt about eating but at other meals I'm going to push her more. Don't draw any attention to her." Will stopped trying to view Emma through someone else's eyes, to notice the behaviors that had become common to him," She will probably have small portions, take small bites, bulk when I suggest a second helping and she will definitely look scared. Try to act like you normally would and on the note of possibility please ask her brother to refrain from…comments."

He hoped he hadn't overstepped a boundary but it was something that needed to be said. If her brother wasn't careful he was going to be on the receiving end of Will's temper if not his fist. Physical violence was something he avoided at all costs but in certain instances especially certain instances involving Emma he was more than ready to make an exception. Deep down he knew he was being over-protective and that perhaps it was all meant in good fun. Whether that was the case or not it was getting to her and by extension angering him.

"I'll do my best to keep him in line won't be a problem today though. He's up north helping a neighbor fix fence."

Taking a sip of his rapidly cooling coffee Will heard the same cacophony of noises he had tried to avoid as Emma made her way down the stairs. If she wasn't able to avoid them and she had grown up here then it must truly be an impossible undertaking.

Emma was more relaxed here. At home it had taken her a long time to walk out of the bedroom not dressed for the day even if it was a weekend but this morning she was in bright yellow, pink polka-dotted pajama bottoms and an oversized grey t-shirt that said something about cowgirls. The best thing in Will's opinion was her hair. It stuck out everywhere still slightly tangled from the night. He had yet to convince her that she could come to breakfast if her hair was a complete wreck. Watching her walk towards him with a small, groggy smile on her face with her hair unkempt Will couldn't stop himself from getting up to meet her half-way placing a soft kiss on her forehead murmuring that he liked this look on her.

"Mornin' Sleepyhead."

Her mumbled response was stifled by a yawn as she shuffled into the kitchen. She looked every bit the ten-year old kid stuck in robot mode as they got ready for school and it was absolutely adorable. This was a side to Emma he had never seen before. More and more things about her were making themselves known bit by bit and perhaps what made him appreciate them more is that they were innocent, unhindered by the expectations of adult life.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma bolted out of bed as she blindly groped for her cell phone in the darkness of her old bedroom. Without thinking she reached her hand out to where her nightstand had been when she had lived here surprised when her hand touched nothing but air.

Opening her eyes Emma could see the display across the room a few feet off the ground. She was never one to sit idly by while a phone rang a sentiment that she was thankful Will shared or she would be answering a lot of his phone calls.

_Incoming Call: Shannon _

Waking up to "We are the Champions" in the form of a ringtone made perfect sense now. Shannon had given Will her number at some point during that horrific night and she had allowed him to enter it in.

"Um, Hi Shannon, this is Emma…good morning?"

There was only one reason she could think of for Shannon to be calling her and that was if something had happened at the school. She had told Will they shouldn't stay down here this long that it was pressing their luck. Her remark about sectionals being around the corner hadn't budged him either.

"Is something wrong?"

Shannon's voice was shy, oddly endearing.

"Oh no…um It's just that…Emma I want you to know that Will and I talked that night at Pizza Hut while you were…and I, I just want you to know that I'm here if you ever need someone to talk to. I have no training and I don't have advice on much unless it relates to a football but I'm a good listener."

She should have been mad that Will had told her but the sincerity behind Shannon's voice stopped her snuffed her anger. Shannon really was a great person once you got to know her, the opposite of herself in almost every way except that they both endured the same dismal level of self-esteem. There had been a hint of uncertainty in the woman's voice like she had been kicking herself ever since Emma had answered. If there was one thing Emma hated it was being the cause of someone's already problematic view of themselves to worsen. Maybe it would be good to talk with her, to someone who wasn't a professional trained to give the same advice she was trained to give and if she really needed advice she could take out a word and insert football.

"Shannon, that's…gosh thank you. That's great really. " Barely pausing to take a breath Emma pushed on afraid that if she waited too long she would lose her nerve hoping the woman would be able to catch her words spurred onward by nervous energy.

"I have a question, well maybe it's a question, maybe it's more that I'm asking your opinion and don't worry if you're worried about that falling under the category of advice I'll throw in the word football."

The coach sounded like she had been prepared for Emma to say a simple thanks and hang up. Her voice faltered a bit as she told Emma to "shoot."

"Will's downstairs probably drinking coffee with my father. Last night was…rough I won't go into details but it involved KFC. It wasn't like pizza hut it was just a difficult evening. I was thinking when you called about how I really need to be working harder at stepping outside of my safe zone instead of relying on him to hold my hand the entire time." It was a lot harder saying that out loud than it had been saying it in her head.

"I want to eat breakfast." Emma squeezed her eyes tight looking down at her legs. Shannon wasn't even here and she was embarrassed.

"…so eat breakfast?"

Emma laughed, her response had been so incredibly blunt, so undeniably Shannon. Anyone else would have asked why she felt she wanted to have breakfast, what had brought on the sudden cognitive shift, if she thought the shift would stay until by the time the onslaught was over she wouldn't know her reasons for wanting breakfast without theirs standing by to mar them.

"I can't just eat breakfast. Can I?"

"Of course you can and what's better is you can even choose what you want to have so what is it? What do you want for breakfast?"

As hesitant as she was to answer the coach's questions her enthusiasm did rub off. This almost felt like a secret, like a game between two girls where they were whispering behind someone's back.

"Pancakes. I want Pancakes."

There she had said it. Looking around Emma noted that the walls were still the same distance away from her body, the roof of the house wasn't in her lap and she wasn't sitting in what should have been the living room while the house was being drawn into a gaping chasm that opened directly beneath it.

"Then missy I think you should go down there and get yourself some pancakes!"

"What are they going to think? What is Will going to think? Won't he be-"

Shannon cut her off blurting out that what other people thought didn't matter because if it did matter and Emma was to be aware of all of them she would find that most people in this world when watching others weren't scrutinizing but wanting something they didn't have.

"To Will your asking for pancakes for breakfast would be the equivalent of convincing the Glee Club to perform Singing in the Rain as the school musical and even if he was missing one ingredient and the nearest store was on that orb that he maintains is still a planet he would make sure you got pancakes. He'd do anything for you and he won't be feeling anything other than being proud of you. So, it's decided then. Get your butt downstairs and eat some pancakes…and put some syrup in Will's hair because I would."

The woman's parting shot kept Emma giggling to herself as she made her way down the stairs. Once when she was seven she had spent two hours trying to figure out the pattern in the creaks to see if she could find a way to get up and down without a single one. Since those two hours she had never tried again.

Her phone started to ring again this time her default ringer. Not bothering to check the ID she answered overjoyed at the voice that greeted her. The conversation had been short but they would more than make up for that tomorrow afternoon.

Despite her early morning pep talk from Shannon Emma was still most definitely in the "morning after a night of fitful sleeping complete with basic functioning required to keep the body moving" mode.

Before coming down she had thought about changing clothes as she had finger-combed her hair. Nothing of that thought had come to fruition however. She was already doing something out of the norm so why not add one more especially if it would make Will smile. That and if she appeared fully dressed her dad would stare at her with a bemused look until she seriously considered going back upstairs putting her pajamas back on, mussing her hair up and re-entering as though the first time didn't count.

Her dad threw her a small wink as Will got up walking the few feet between her and her intended target of the chair next to him. She could tell that he liked how dressed down she was but that didn't stop the blush when he told her that in person. She tried to tell him that she was dressed more casually than him in his blue jeans and white t-shirt but a yawn got in the way.

Emma sat down diagonally across from her father opposite the side she would have been on because Will had unknowingly taken her father's "spot." Her father had always joked that he wanted to sit on that side of the table for two reasons; one being that he could jump up and look out the kitchen window to make sure the cows were still home and two, it was the furthest from the door which meant her mother had to do that much more work to clean up his muddy shoeprints. The last was always disclosed with a laugh and replied to via a hand towel covering his head.

He was staring at her from underneath his international harvester cap. _Please don't say anything. It's stupid and childish. Don't even mention it._

"Tweetiebug are you telling me that Will here is going to stop at least a decade long tradition? Tell ya what how about I allow him to do the honors?

Her father always had been immune to glares predicting certain death.

"Well since she is too embarrassed right now to tell you I guess it's up to me. For as long as I can remember I have spun her in that chair every morning before I went out to do chores."

Her mortification grew when Will's light-hearted chuckle met her ears. It wasn't too long after that an amused "hold on" joined it. Gripping the wooden handles of the chair and pulling her knees into her chest she let out a squeal as Will spun her around faster than her father ever had. Just as abruptly the chair stopped but Emma's world wasn't paying attention to that detail. She was acutely aware of Will's hand moving a strand of her hair as he talked his way around a laugh that just barely let slip the words "couldn't resist."

Emma looked up to see her father standing in the doorway of the kitchen his worn blue coveralls already on with his trademark Red Wing work boots in hand. He would have eaten breakfast before Will was up. Sometimes Emma wished she had her father's ability to never set an alarm and always wake up at five in the morning. As a child it had been the bane of her existence because everyone knows that when dad is up the kids are up too.

Peering up at Will she realized her father must have walked out because if he was still in the room she was fairly certain Will wouldn't currently be kissing her.

"Oatmeal is where it always is I'm assuming." Will sounded like he had thought about his whispered decision for awhile.

_Oatmeal, he's giving me the chance to eat oatmeal? _

Emma struggled with two voices in her head one operating on the side of good and the other of evil depending on how she decided to define the two for the moment. Currently the one telling her that she should be smart and choose something that wouldn't make her fat was evil. The good was telling her to eat pancakes not only for herself but for Will. It was Shannon's order to put syrup in his hair that gave her the extra push in the right direction.

"Can I have pancakes?"

All of the bravado and confidence that had been in her voice when she had tested that question out in her mind was gone the second it left her mouth. She sounded afraid, ashamed. The only indicator that Will had even heard her was the sudden absence of movement in the arms that had been moving to encircle her body. Supporting his weight on the chair Will once again looked down at her rewarding her with that lopsided grin she had not seen enough of lately.

"Coming right up M'lady."

Watching Will turn in circles as she purposefully misdirected him when he asked where things were combined with his escapade with the flour which he proclaimed always had it out for him when he cooked didn't give Emma the time to think about anything other than the present.

It wasn't long before two medium sized pancakes were sitting on a corn-ware plate in front of her. As a child she had always like the plates and for years she had thought placed in the middle of all the designs on the border of the dishes there was one of a cows head until one day her mother decided to tell her it was really two butterflies. If she looked hard enough she could still see a cows head. It wouldn't matter how hard she looked right now because both the cow and the butterflies were covered with a pancake.

It had taken a long time for her to get through both but she was determined to not fall into the trap of eating fast so she wouldn't have to look at the food. She wasn't sure what she was doing could be called eating. It was in the literal sense but in the human sense it was robotic, somewhat forced like all of the small behaviors that comprised the whole were having to be carefully thought out.

Will got up to rinse his plate after his four pancakes which gave her just the chance she needed. She hated messing with syrup outside of pancakes and waffles but seeing as it was Shannon's comment that got her to eat something other than oatmeal in the first place she owed it to Shannon to do what she asked. Emma squeezed a fair amount of corn syrup on to a napkin by the side of her plate praying that Will wouldn't turn around.

Sneaking up behind him Emma ran her free hand down his side caressing him through his shirt while she placed kisses in locations around his neck that always gave him goose bumps. He had stopped working at getting the syrup off the plate setting it carefully in the sink as he turned to face her. Allowing him to lean in for a kiss Emma deepened it as she slowly raised her napkin covered hand above his head slipping her tongue into his mouth at the exact moment she pressed the napkin into his hair. As expected Will pulled away abruptly and Emma worked hard to look shocked by the sudden movement.

She watched as Will raised his hand up placing it palm down directly on top of the sticky mess obviously not aware of what it was. His eyes widened before they narrowed locking in on her. Emma had given up trying to act clueless and was now outright laughing. On occasion it would start to die down but as soon as she looked at his face or thought about telling Shannon it started back up.

Still being considerate Will took her arm in his syrup-free hand moving her so that her face was against his chest.

"I don't believe you just put syrup in my hair!

He did sound honest about the not believing part. Thinking about it what she did to him was just as out of character as eating those pancakes had been. Shannon clearly needed to give herself more credit in the advice category.

His voice deepened and Emma could feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke.

"You're not going to get away with this you know. I'll get you back."

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will felt absolutely ridiculous as he watched Emma from behind his little wall of boxes that he was certain she had purposefully cornered him with. It had taken far longer than he would have ever imagined to scrub Emma's joke out of his hair. That step of course had been secondary to finding shampoo which he had forgotten to pack. Walking around all day smelling like strawberries while damaging to his masculinity was far better than having high fructose corn syrup in his hair. _Geez if this syrup thing ever found its way back to Sue…_

His assignment was to work his way through this mountain of boxes throwing anything that he thought was trash out and asking her about the rest. It was slow going because he had no idea what she wanted or didn't want but at least it made him feel useful. One particularly large box had contained stuffed animals which he lobbed at Emma when she started withdrawing into herself. She would always laugh and chuck it back while he sat there confident she would miss every time. She did.

In her hands currently was a pastel painting with a small gold plaque at the bottom. Will was too far away to see what image the canvas held but it must have been something important. Emma brought the wooden-framed picture close up to her face her mouth moving slightly as she read the words to herself. Shifting so she was sitting square on the floor Emma wrapped her arms around the painting pulling it against her chest as she dropped her head her body shaking with silent sobs.

Will tried not to stare as he quietly opened another box. He didn't want to intrude. The last thing he would want was for someone to run to his side every time he got emotional in a situation like this. Throwing some high-school algebra notes into the overflowing trash bag to his left his hand stopped its descent back into the box as Emma began to speak.

"Will, I don't want to do this, it isn't fa-"she couldn't continue her sentence through the tears so determined to fall.

As quickly as he could Will navigated the sea of cardboard kneeling at her side setting what appeared to be a very well-loved black and white stuffed dog in her lap in place of the words he couldn't find.

"This was my mom's. She loved this stupid thing. It was painted for her by a college friend. Her dream was to have a 20,000 acre ranch and breed Arabians. The whole house would be a pig-sty and she would never fail to lovingly dust this every week. She never got her dream…"

The way her voice trailed off told him that she wasn't really looking for his input. She just wanted someone to listen.

Pointing to the dog in her lap Will delicately shifted her focus onto something a little less intense.

"Who's this guy?"

Emma let out that sound that can never decide if it wants to be a sob or a laugh as she told him that it was Jake. When she had her tonsils taken out her mother had given her the stuffed dog before the doctors wheeled her away. Will smiled when she told him that she had slept with the dog for years even through college.

Using the first accent that came to mind Will grabbed Jake placing his nose against Emma's, "Jake here thinks you should hold him while we continue because he missed you."

"Jake's not Italian,"

"How do you know?"

"Because he's from a farm here in Virginia."

His ploy was working Emma was relaxing again and seemed to be having a pretty good time explaining why her stuffed dog did not require a green card.

"Maybe his mother was imported from Italy."

Emma rolled her eyes as she shook her head. Intent on keeping her distracted Will tried and failed to imitate the southern accent that he was living in. After having him repeat his earlier sentence word by word three times over she gave up deadpanning that a man who taught Spanish and learned an Italian accent for the sake of a musical should be able to pull off a southern one.

Will grinned forcing his body up stopping halfway when he caught sight of Emma's shirt remembering that he hadn't had a chance to read it this morning.

Kneeling down again he grabbed the bottom of the garment pulling it so the letters were no longer distorted by wrinkles.

"Save a horse ride a-"

He tripped over the next word. Where would Emma have even gotten a shirt like that? A college friend that Will officially wanted to meet was her answer to the question he hadn't been able to form yet. She didn't look too shy about the intended meaning.

"Well, I'm afraid I never learned how to ride a horse per say but seeing as I'm supposed to save one anyways I guess I don't have to, " he paused momentarily wondering if he was going to cross a line, "but I do know how to _ride_ and you're the only cowgirl I know…"

"Will!"

He had been banished to his boxed in corner of the room after he stole a kiss she willingly handed over. Once she had explained that the words were a slight twist on the chorus of a well-known song his stance on country music became a little less steadfast.

Returning his attention to the box he had been starting on when Emma had located the painting he pulled out a piece of notebook paper and was about to throw his accomplishment onto the meager pile of empty boxes when he noticed a green folder tucked neatly into the bottom.

After he worked for a while to extract the folder that was one size too small for the box it was squished into he opened it up expecting to see more notes on some high school subject. So far he had probably covered an entire year and the amount of knowledge that he was sure he learned but couldn't remember now wasn't giving him much hope for his Spanish students. A stack of emails were haphazardly placed in the right pocket. Pulling them out he begrudgingly put forth the effort to read a section. There was probably a reason she had printed these off.

It was more than clear from the random paragraph he had chosen that these were not trash. A quick mental calculation on his part from the date adorning each one told him Emma would have been sixteen during this exchange. It wasn't even a question as to whether or not he was going to draw her attention to material so unsettling he had actually double-checked to make sure it was Emma's name and then glowered at the one that wasn't.

"Em, what are these?"

Emma turned towards him scooting across the carpet on her knees through a recently cleaned path to peer over his shoulder.

"Oh wow, I forgot about these! This is a virtual trip a friend and I took to South Carolina. Don't ask me why it was South Carolina I'm sure there was a joke behind it at the time. It was harmless fun. I don't even remember what we wrote. Let me see those."

She sounded like a child on their birthday but it wasn't making him smile like it usually did. He wanted a few answers and right or wrong he wasn't handing the papers in his hand over until he got some. From the bits he had skimmed over this was not harmless fun. Moving away from Emma he propped himself against the wall parallel to her ensuring she wouldn't be able to snatch them away.

"You really don't remember any of this?" he wasn't able to prevent the skepticism he felt from trickling into his words.

"Only something about paper towels…Bounty paper towels I think…"

Will gave up completely on not letting his thoughts color his voice and as a result there was a hard yet reserved edge to his voice

"Oh there are definitely paper towels. Who is Marshall Gates? How did you know him?"

"He was the organist at a local church. I've never heard anyone else as talented as him. He had his masters in music, something related to playing the organ. He helped me through such a rough time in my life. I was such an outcast. Gates was the person who convinced me to sing in church, a wedding too actually. He was the most influential person in my life from junior high through high school. I felt closer to him than I did any of my family. He was so sincere and always had the most amazing advice; advice I still think about daily. "

Emma laughed as she told him that Gates had the wittiest sense of humor always able to take a situation and flip it upside down with some clever one-liner. She had sobered when she mentioned that those years were a time in her life when she really needed comfort and he gave the best hugs.

"I still remember those hugs you know, everything about them right down to how they felt. They were so important to me at the time and they still are. He helped me through so many things Will, so many things."

Will had resisted the urge to stop her after the third sentence. _Organist with a master's?_

Making more of an effort to keep his voice nonchalant Will continued his third degree, "How old was he?"

He was honestly afraid of what Emma's answer would be. It took a long time to perfect the art of playing an organ especially if he was as accomplished as Emma said he was and that was leaving out the fact that he had an MA by the time Emma met him.

Emma's response was non-committal yet filled with the respect she obviously still had for this man.

"Oh he was probably mid-to-late thirties maybe? His wife was so sweet and his kids were adorable. He was an excellent father."

_This man was married with kids, what the hell was he doing?_

"Emma, for a man of that age conversing with a sixteen year old what he wrote was definitely not appropriate and that's letting alone the fact that he was married with kids."

"Don't be silly whatever it is I'm sure it was harmless. It's probably just out of context" her voice was completely clueless, she really didn't remember.

"Emma he has you dressed in paper towels, accidently rips off your outfit cleaning up pizza, somehow you both end up in a lake, he has edited for content portions and even outside of the story makes comments about how it would be nice to watch you run back to the car. He suggested a closet marriage. He wrote a sexual poem right before he went to put his kids to bed. This is not harmless."

Emma had snatched the papers out of Will hand and he had let her. Her eyes widened as she began reading.

"He wrote that? I wrote that? What were we doing? Okay I agree it looks bad but it's always offset with something funny and nothing is directly mentioned." She was grasping at straws.

Will took the papers back shuffling around for a section he had read earlier growing more disturbed as he spoke them out loud.

"Okay, then in that case I think it would be fun I think to continue the perverted side of things but not sure how far to take it as you are still a young'un. Only in person would that ever be disclosed. So since you're not making me a new outfit and I'm in the car trying to drive and am unable to do much else at the moment, there's only thing really to do, and that is to make things equal. So out the window goes my filthy outfit and off and out goes your lovely towel outfit (out the window to make certain you don't just slip it back on.) With no one in front and no one behind us I'm able to…..then proceed to throw out all the paper towels we had in the back seat. And then I plaster a big kiss on your face to make it more interesting and you just sorta sit there with a blissed out smile on your face. Equally amused, we agree to stop on the side of the road in a forested area and…"

Emma was quiet her eyes wide as she processed Will's words.

"Why did you stop reading after whatever it was he proceeded to do?"

"…because he used parenthesis, ellipsis, parenthesis to show that it was edited for content. That's fairly direct Emma."

"Well it doesn't sound innocent really but it's Gates and from what I saw I went along so if anything I lured him into it. I'm at fault too."

"He has numerous edited parts and on multiple occasions asks if these emails are confidential and not seen by anyone else. This could've stayed innocent and funny but he crossed a line…big time. He could have saved the perverted jokes for hanging out with friends, making these kinds of scenarios with a sixteen year old is just uncalled for. "

He watched as Emma's facial expression mirrored the war that was being raged in her head.

"I was so desperate for emotional support, he was my support system. I trusted him with my life. I still would and I never asked him to stop, I played into it too Will."

"I'm not going to start on your feeling guilty because I know those reactions were discussed somewhere when you were an undergrad. He was an adult Emma. If anyone should've been steering this in the other direction should have been him."

"I can't view myself as a victim."

"You're excusing his behavior. What would you do if you found out I had been exchanging emails of this nature with a student?"

That got to her. Emma paused looking at nothing to her left, "It's Gates Will. Nothing happened. Nothing ever would. It's Gates."

He was up against a brick wall. Maybe he shouldn't have even brought it up. He had just been worried about what the implications behind the emails might have been but seeing as Emma had just nullified that concern there really wasn't any reason to try and change her mind. They were running in circles with this like they were with aspects of her eating disorder. This whole thing between Emma and this Marshall Gates was in the past and he needed to leave it there.

"When is the last time you spoke with him?"

Well his idea of shutting up was working splendidly.

Emma had moved a few feet away and was pretending to go through a box. _What is she doing?_

"Emma?"

"He…um…he called this morning, heard I was in town. We are meeting tomorrow in the park at two."She sounded timid and defensive all at once.

In the past or not this entire ordeal had just been hurtled into the present and Will was going to make sure he remained right in the middle of it. No way was Emma going to meet this man by herself. No way. No how.

"I'm going with you."

He more than conveyed that he wasn't asking for her input on the matter but after ten minutes of her saying that his insinuating that anything would take place was preposterous he had relinquished his control. Emma was an adult and as such she had the right to make her own decisions.

Will roughly opened another box as he growled that she should take him a roll of Bounty paper towels.

* * *

They needed a break. After the whole "email episode" they had rummaged their way through six more boxes and made a small dent in the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. There weren't any hard feelings between them but Will was going to keep Emma in sight tomorrow.

The room was growing oppressive, the sun was mocking him from outside the window and if that barn swallow chirped one more time he was going to find a rifle. He was on a farm. There was bound to be one somewhere.

Will checked his watch. It well past lunchtime, he had been so wrapped up he hadn't bothered to check the time. While it bothered him that he had just skewed Emma's meal schedule it was the perfect excuse to get out of here. Standing up Will stretched out his body as he told Emma he would be downstairs making them some lunch. She didn't follow him but he wasn't too concerned if everything went according to the newly-forming plan in his head she would not only eat but hopefully relax a little as well. _There's a slight juxtaposition. Eating and relaxing. _

It was amazing how much easier it was to navigate the kitchen without someone trying to intentionally sabotage him. The hardest part about the entire preparation had been locating something that resembled a picnic basket. The white, ten gallon bucket in his hand was the best he could do.

Stopping outside Emma's bedroom door he looked around the frame. She was sitting on the floor paging through the emails that had caused such a ruckus earlier. The knife he had stabbed into the jar of peanut butter didn't take away any of his frustration about tomorrow's event but it did make him feel better about his tiff with Emma even if there was no correlation.

Will counted to four his hand positioned inches away from the wood before he tapped out the opening measures to a Christmas carol he knew she would never guess.

He grinned as Emma put the piece of paper in her hands on the floor bobbing her head up and down as she tried to figure out the song. Carefully setting the bucket down just outside the door Will stepped over a couple stray boxes purposefully planting one foot on a discarded email.

"It's not a winter wonderland but would you mind walking with me anyways?"

Recognition flashed in her eyes as Emma groaned placing a hand on her forehead out loud chastising herself for not figuring out his little game. Maybe one day they should switch roles, he would probably be pretty good at this.

Emma's laughter at his picnic basket carried them out of the house and into the driveway where they now stood as Emma tried to figure out where to take him. He had handed the reigns over to her stating that as long as they didn't end up where the cows were he was okay. Honestly he didn't know how Emma would be with eating outside. When he had thought of it his only angle had been getting her to relax around food. On a rainy day Emma had talked about the few places on her parent's farm where she would almost become asymptomatic. She had no explanation other than they had been favorites of hers before the accident and that maybe that eclipsed the Mysophobia.

Against his better judgment Will closed his eyes when Emma requested he do so. Walking around on a dairy farm with his eyes shut just didn't sound like a good idea. The sensation that he was going to slam into a brick wall at any moment transported him back to the day at the dog show. It was a good thing Emma couldn't read his thoughts when they revolved around things like what would have happened if she had worn the shirt she had on today then.

Emma's hand was removing the bucket from his grasp and he assumed she set it down somewhere because soon both of her hands had both of his as she raised his arms up in front of him pulling him forward until he felt something prickly beneath his skin. Whatever he was touching Emma was enjoying his predicament laughing freely before finally saying he could open his eyes.

_A hay bale?_

"I used to come here all the time as a girl. It's perfect as long as the food doesn't fall off my lap. Come on I already have the bucket up there!"

She sounded like a little girl and this time he did smile. She had indeed gotten the bucket on a bale. That must have taken some effort these things were up to his neck in height. Will stood where he was trying to figure out the best way to get on top of the monstrosity in front of him. Looking over at Emma he watched in fascination and disbelief as she braced one foot on the bale grabbing the pieces of twine in either hand and hauled herself up far too gracefully. There were a lot of years of practice behind that sequence of behaviors but if Emma could do it so could he.

Four tries and countless taunts later he was finally sitting across from Emma.

They ate the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in silence the wind stealing little strands of hair from Emma's pony tail as the sun warmed their backs. Emma looked gorgeous, care-free…_in love._ The change in environment was doing them both good. Will was going stir crazy and the voice didn't seem to be present at all as Emma picked her way through a semi-melted Reeses pieces. It hadn't occurred to him when he packed one for both of them that they were one of the things she had binged on the day he had finally learned what was going on.

This location must have magical properties. That was officially the only explanation he had for Emma's behavior. If he could bottle whatever it was that was making her so youthful and delightfully impulsive he would. She had not only eaten her sandwich, the grapes and the almost melted candy but she had also drank the juice he had brought along even though she didn't know what it was.

Will couldn't do anything but watch as she sloppily threw everything in the bucket slinging it through the air as hard as she could giggling to herself when it struck a boulder about ten feet away.

"You just broke the bucket!"

"I know. That makes number twelve if I remember correctly." Emma had a sly smirk on her face and Will wondered just how often her father purchased ten gallon buckets when she was growing up.

Emma crawled over to him on her knees clasping her hands behind her back as she kissed him her rebellious hair blowing against the side of his face.

"Come with me!"

His eyes had still been closed when Emma jumped to her feet motioning for him to follow as she effortlessly climbed to the top of the pile that was easily twenty feet up if not more. From where he was the image of Emma silhouetted against the blue sky with her hair swept away from her face by gusts of wind as she stood there looking down at him with a wicked smile was beyond words.

Just like his first experience with hay bales it took him longer to get to the top then it had Emma but he had found an effective way of silencing her teasing. Will was sitting on his knees across from Emma one hand on the side of her face and the other resting on her hip as he kissed her deeply. Her hands were running along his back at some point having found their way beneath his shirt. When her hands ghosted along his chest he groaned softly into her mouth very carefully lowering them both so that he was partially on top of her supporting his weight with his elbows. Leaning down he held his face inches from hers his murmur about sexy cowgirls getting swallowed up by the wind as he closed the distance between them.

Will felt like a teenager again if you discounted the whole sitting on a hay bale thing. It had been a long time since he had sat and made out with someone just for the fun of making out. Emma was leaning against him her back to his chest his arms holding her close. The wind had died down somewhat but its effects were still detectable in the tangled mass that used to be contained within a pony tail. His thoughts trailed off to his almost forgotten about conversation with Dan that morning. It seemed so long ago. If he was going to ask this would be the time to do it but he was scared of breaking this moment between them. Everything about this moment was absolutely perfect.

"Do you trust me?"

He let Emma remove herself from his arms as she turned to stare at him in confusion.

"Of course I trust you."

"No, do you trust me, trust that I'm not trying to work against you, that I'm not trying to make you fat, that I'm not going to leave you?"

Emma fell quiet letting his words hang on the breeze that was starting to pick up again. Her bottom lip stuck out slightly as she bit down arranging her answer in her head before laying it out before him. If it hadn't been such a serious topic he would have thought her lip-biting cute.

"I trust you Will. I trust that you are trying to help me. I trust that you are not simply trying to make me fat and I trust that you are not going to leave me."

There was a definitely an unspoken "but" there. Sensing that Emma wasn't going to give it the chance to be spoken he voiced it.

"..but what Em?"

"The voice doesn't."

_She trusts me. Her disordered mind doesn't but she does. That means she's aware enough to separate the two and she knows her feelings from me lie independently of what the voice tells her. That's good, not perfect but I'll take it. _

"I'm not asking the voice. The voice can go to hell. You are the one I care about. I have faith in you Emma. I really do believe you will work past this, we will work past this. Don't forget that. Don't forget I believe in you."

Emma answered him with another soft kiss as she resettled herself against his chest her eyes moving to the pasture in front of them as they both watched the sky turn into a mural of gold, pink and purple as the sun worked its way below the horizon.

Will stayed silent as the light faded around them content to do nothing but exist right here, right now with Emma.

* * *

A/N: Can you guys tell that I grew up (and still listen to on occassion) country music? lol. Of course all music takes a back seat to that of Glee!

Let me know what you think please!


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: I'm really glad none of you are physically within range (hopefully or that would be creepy) because I'm fairly certain someone (perhaps myself) is going to murder me for my increasingly lengthy chapters. Really I was annoyed with myself this time and every time I revised I kept looking down at the word count which taunted me endlessly going down then up then down...

You guys have no idea how many times I completely changed _huge _chunks of this and there are still things I wish I would have included but I was not about to start. I'll squeeze them into the next one...maybe. In case anyone asks Emma is not skipping meals it's more like the author skipping them because she doesn't want to a: have a chapter of only meals that steals possible Wemma time or b: gloss over them when they really aren't ready to be glossed over yet.

Sorry if some details are incorrect and by extension spelling and grammatical errors.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**Will's POV**

He hadn't thought about this when he had picked Emma up after her latest half-asleep on her feet stumble had nearly taken them both down. The storm door hadn't been a problem just a matter of catching it with his foot and moving forward fast enough that it connected with him and not her.

Navigating a pitch black house with a very minimal working knowledge of the floor plan without crashing them into something potentially harmful was…a small complication.

Will stood just inside the door as smoothly as possible shifting Emma around as he tested to see if he could support her with one arm. It was going to be rough but he would make it as long as he didn't kill them first. Cautiously he took a step forward sliding his foot along the carpet with his right hand extended in front of him to hopefully come into contact with any objects before Emma did. He had briefly considered putting her down but he couldn't bring himself to wake her up. The day had been so wonderful.

He knew the kitchen door was directly in front of the one he had just entered. It was the overhanging bar that jutted out into the entryway of the living room that he was worried about. Will had learned from Emma's father that every child had cracked their head into that outcropping at some point. He had joked that it was a Pillsbury rite of passage. Will still felt embarrassed when he thought about her father's next comment, that Will was like a member of the family to him and sooner or later he would have to earn his place like everyone else. His loving tap on the hard wood had left Will wondering just how hard that rite of passage was going to be.

Detecting a change in the carpet beneath him Will breathed a sigh of relief. He was officially past the bar. Shuffling slowly dragging his feet instead of picking them up he angled to the right in the general direction of his intended target. His hand bumped into an unintended target and sheer luck allowed him to grab it before it went toppling to the ground. He could picture the object as soon as he touched it. Of course it would be the antique reading lamp that had belonged to Emma's grandmother that he almost desecrated not one of the modern ones that nobody would really care about. Will's luck had a nasty habit of switching sides with no warning. The next obstacle located with his foot was the couch. Moving forward so that his knees were along the front he slid across until he felt nothing but air. He was almost there. Groping along the wall for the handle glad that it was different from all the others, smaller with a slight squeak when it turned he encountered his next oversight. Earlier when he had been trying to coax Emma up the stairs he had reasoned that it would be impossible to carry her.

It made perfect sense that he was going to attempt it now in complete darkness.

Running his toes along the front of each step until he felt it level off Will continued his ascent step by increasingly difficult step. Emma was growing heavier by the second especially now that he was moving so deliberately slow. His legs were going to kill him tomorrow. There was something about a person being asleep that seemed to increase their weight ten-fold. When his feet hit what he knew to be the ridiculous blue carpet he breathed another sigh of relief. The rest was clear sailing. Maneuvering down the halls counting on memory rather than touch to know when to turn towards Emma's bedroom he stepped through the doorway thinking briefly of what it would be like to be carrying Emma through a different doorway when she had a different last name. Carefully he laid Emma down and tucked her in placing a kiss on her forehead the way his mom had always done with him.

Will was half-way under the sheet when he remembered the longing glance Emma had thrown at the stuffed dog he had tenderly propped on a box in a corner of the room the other night. Crawling back out Will crossed the room thankful that he at least knew this layout. Running his hands along box after box he smiled when he felt something soft and furry. With the smile still on his face he retraced his steps back to Emma quietly scooting up behind her embracing both her and Jake not wanting to risk disturbing his own personal Sleeping Beauty by placing the dog between her arms as he gave into the fatigue the days' activities had wrought.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

For the first time in weeks Emma woke to find that Will was not wrapped around her even though she could feel his steady breaths against the back of her neck. Rolling over Emma brushed her tangled hair away from her eyes and melted at the Kodak moment beside her.

Will was lying on his side his mouth parted slightly while his arms hugged Jake in a vice grip against his chest. His curls were stubbornly sticking up in every direction and the sheet had been delegated to a crumpled heap on the floor. She could almost picture him as a small boy curled up with his favorite toy. Stretching over his shoulder Emma snatched her phone from the nightstand starting the camera shifting to make sure she captured the entire scene. The unexpected "quack" that had accompanied the stilling of the miniature image startled her. Will apparently had stolen her phone. Again.

The first couple times he had changed the banner so it read things like "Emma loves Will" or her favorite to date "Glee teach is sexy" which she had left on her phone until an embarrassing moment with Rachel when the girl had been frantic about calling her dads about the solo Will had given her. Emma had offered her cell in a last ditch effort to stop the young diva's in detail description of why the song was perfect for her. Rachel never reacted to the message even though it would have been impossible to miss.

Will stirred and Emma smirked, it served him right to be woken up by his own joke. She giggled as he opened his eyes directly into those of her stuffed dog. He groaned into the pillow mumbling something about blackmail blindly trying to locate the phone she had already moved out of his reach with an outstretched arm. It didn't really matter if he got the phone. She had already emailed the incriminating evidence to her account knowing Will would erase the picture the first chance he got.

"I think I've been replaced."

Will turned his head to gaze at her and Emma pouted her lips in the way she knew he could never resist. Yawning Will carelessly flung Jake across the room looking unsatisfied as the toy landed on a pile of her mothers' untouched clothes. Stretching he raised himself up so that he was level with Emma.

"Never," despite the light-hearted situation that word was uttered in all seriousness, "Besides he's a horrible kisser, you on the other hand…"

Emma allowed Will to pull her down on top of him as he placed kisses along her neck making his way up to her jaw to pause for a beat before he refocused his attention on her mouth.

The tell-tale groan of her bedroom door swinging open left them both frozen and Emma wishing the sheet wasn't lying on the floor. There was no way to explain that being sprawled across her boyfriend with her hands curled in his hair while his hands were just barely under the bottom of her shirt was not sexual.

"Whoa…sorry."

Letting out a mutual sigh that ended in a hushed fit of laughter Emma didn't realize she had said the thank you she had meant to keep to herself until Will asked what she was thankful for. She thought about saying something about how much worse it would have been had her brother walked in later but that wasn't the reason and starting the day out with a lie, even a small one, was not a favorite of hers.

"He used to tease me that I would never find someone who would put up with my craziness let alone someone who would have, er, be intimate with me."

Will kissed her nose.

"I accept your craziness and am rather fond of being, er, intimate with you," his lips quirked into a grin as he poked fun at her verbal slip, "and as for him, he had better watch his mouth. I'm not liable for any unfortunate events that may or may not befall him."

Emma's response was cut off by her father's booming voice that was no less jarring now than it had been when she was a little girl.

"Hey you kids breakfast is gettin' cold!"

Will furrowed his brow, "Wow his voice carries…kids? Really?"

"Trust me, that's nothing. You should hear him when the cows get out."

* * *

Her brother would never tell her dad what he had walked in on but as she sat in her childhood spot it was still embarrassing when her father greeted them both with a casual good morning.

Out of the corner of her eye Emma could have swore she saw her dad nod like he was giving his permission for something. When Will repeated the two-word phrase he had used yesterday seconds before her world blurred again was all the evidence she needed that his nod had not been a figment of her imagination.

A plate containing four strips of crispy bacon and hash browns complete with a pancake slid in front of her and she found herself hoping the vertigo would linger so she could use it as an excuse not to eat. Looking to her left she noticed that Will was in the same boat although his probably wasn't on the verge of sinking.

It took a significant amount of effort to grab the fork to the right of her plate in a mode other than slow-motion. She had eliminated one problem only to come face to face with one far more intense. There was absolutely nothing on the plate that did not have the word "unsafe" stamped all over it with the exception perhaps of the pancake. Everything else was swimming in grease another card-carrying member of the "don't touch" club. _What's wrong? Did you think I was going to disappear that easily? I thought you were done getting all bent out of shape about food. Oops, guess I was wrong. Eat up. Get fat._

Emma cautiously cut a sliver off of the home-grown beef determined to finish at least half of it resolving to not let the voice get the best of her. With a confidence that surfaced from some recess deep within her she placed the morsel in her mouth. Chewing was the next problem as she battled it out with the voice retaliating by slowly moving her jaw up and down. The hardest part was swallowing. Swallowing meant digestion which still translated into the accumulation of fat.

After the first bite Emma found the process becoming easier and a very small, long dormant voice allowed her to admit that the food tasted okay. Faster than expected the patty was gone leaving the thanks-to-yesterday less daunting pancake which only gave way to trying to choose between the lesser of the two remaining evils on her plate. The predicament was beginning to become overwhelming and her breathing started to quicken as she thought about everyone staring at her.

Will's breath was warm against her ear as he whispered that she was doing great. He always knew what to say to keep her grounded. Chancing a look at her brother to her mortification his plate was slicked off. She wasn't sure how long she had been picking away at her breakfast but she knew it was longer than a normal person would take. An avalanche of self-consciousness nearly buried her and she seriously considered saying she was full until she noticed Will's plate was just as loaded as hers. There was no doubt in her mind that he should have been done eating by now. He was matching her pace, making sure he didn't leave her on her own. He was conveying so much more than an attempt to make her comfortable in a high stress situation. The silent message held in his eyes of "I'm right here with you," gave Emma the strength to stab her fork into the mound of hash browns. Resisting the urge to close her eyes she began the tedious process she had used with the sausage and pancake finding it was a little easier to tune out the voice. It wasn't completely blocked. If someone would have asked her what it was saying she would have answered without a moment's hesitation. _What are you doing? You're disgusting. You're piling up failure after failure and sooner or later this pile will collapse leaving you to suffocate beneath it._

_Even your hero won't be able to save you then._

Emma's surroundings faded a little further into the background as she zeroed in on that last blow. Distantly she was aware of her brother leaving the table. It was the slam of the storm door that drew her attention to Will who was once again leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

"I'll make a deal with you okay? If you finish these hash browns and make an effort to eat decent for the rest of the day I will go country like you have been begging me to do but only for forty-eight hours unless by some twist of fate you are able convince me to extend the offer. I won't even complain about whatever you come up with for me to wear and I will let you drag me to that dance tonight I caught you reading about on a flyer. You can do this, besides you know you want to see me dressed like a hick."

Emma's father chuckled from behind his coffee cup tipping his head to read the paper spread in front of him his Soybean Industries cap hiding his face as he mumbled something about Garfield. In a hushed voice Emma told Will that she was going to hold him to everything he had said adding that he had to do whatever she asked as she delicately placed another bite of hash browns in to her mouth.

Hearing the word "hick' come out of Will's mouth was the highlight of Emma's morning, just like she had stared bug-eyed at the dog show at the flippant usage of "bitch" he had looked on in horror when everyone in her family continuously cracked jokes about being hicks. Where he had grown up the word had been derogatory and it had taken him a while to get used to the fact that in the country it was thrown around casually and while it could be used offensively it was usually just in jest.

* * *

**Father's POV**

Right off the bat he noticed Emma's shy blush that definitely only meant one thing which was more than probably what had made them late for breakfast. He smiled to himself delighted to see Emma so relaxed with Will. The younger man would never make Emma do anything she wasn't comfortable with and he couldn't call them out anyways considering his actions before his own marriage.

Will cleared his throat softly before he mouthed a quick "Can I?" in his direction as he pulled Emma's chair out. The look on her face radiated happiness as she tried and failed to produce a glare in the light of Will's boyish smile once the chair had lost its momentum.

Tugging the brim of his cap down he leaned forward pretending to read the headlines discreetly watching Emma. His son slid the plate across the table where it stopped as if on cue right in front of her. Earlier he had been listening to the radio and he silently apologized to Will when Emma's eyes widened at the typical farm-style breakfast. The plate was heaped in food because like an idiot he had been so absorbed in farm reports he had forgotten to inform her brother that he should give her smaller portions. Will had the same amount on his plate as she did.

If he were honest with himself what he was doing right now was the only reason he had delayed going out to do chores. He wanted to see first-hand how difficult this was for his little girl even if it did feel like he was prying into something that wasn't any of his business. Mentally he ran through Will's list of abnormal behaviors Emma might engage in his disappointment over Emma cutting what barely constituted as a piece off the edge of her sausage patty had transformed into pride when she chewed and swallowed. It was slow going all the way through although the pancake had appeared easier for her to tackle. Apprehensively he noticed her chest begin to rise and fall a symptom he had learned to recognize long ago as a precursor to a panic attack.

Respect and awe hit him as Will whispered something just low enough he couldn't catch it into her ear. _He's so patient with her. I've never met anyone who could ward off one of her panic attacks. I hope he knows just how important he really is to her._

Curiously he noticed Will's plate was just as full as Emma's and he could tell that he was slyly keeping tabs on Emma's progress. The fear that crept onto his daughters face as she glanced over at her brother's empty plate that turned to relief as she briefly flashed her eyes to Will's nearly prompted him to thank the man right then and there for everything he was doing. Will was skillfully avoiding leaving her in the uncomfortable position of being the last one to finish effectively preventing her from becoming so nervous that she would most likely try to duck out with the excuse that she was getting full. From the small amount of information he had gleaned from Will the knowledge that everyone might be watching her eat would definitely cause that outcome.

She was hesitating now that her choice had been narrowed between bacon and hash browns. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the glint that was forming in his son's eyes that always meant he was on the verge of making some sort of insensitive remark. Will's request had not fallen by the wayside.

"I don't know why you're still sitting here with your feet up. You should have been half done tagging those calves over an hour ago."

Reluctantly the younger man pushed away from the table taking the chip that had formed on his shoulder with him as he slammed the door failing to convey his anger at being shooed out but succeeding in showing everyone just how immature he was.

He answered Will's quick look of appreciation in the same subtle fashion he had used earlier.

No matter how much he hated them his last minute decision to put his hearing aids in was proving to be one of the smarter things he had done this morning. Will was once again inches from Emma's ear and this time he could hear every word.

"I'll make a deal with you okay? If you finish these hash browns and make an effort to eat decent for the rest of the day I will go country like you have been begging me to do but only for forty-eight hours unless by some twist of fate you are able convince me to extend the offer. I won't even complain about whatever you come up with for me to wear and I will let you drag me to that dance tonight I caught you reading about on a flyer. You can do this, besides you know you want to see me dressed like a hick."

Hiding behind his coffee mug he looked around desperately for an explanation for his ill-placed laugh. The comics were always the last thing he read in the morning and luckily he had just been starting on the first one when Emma and Will had come downstairs.

"Who would ever think of the idea to create a comic strip based on a lasagna loving cat?"

_That's good. I would believe that._

Chasing away another outburst with a swig of his coffee he bemusedly watched their interaction as Will agreed to do whatever Emma said. _That poor guy has no idea how deep he just stepped in it._

Emma loved to line dance. It was one of many mutual passions they both shared. When she was younger he had taught her every dance he knew but it hadn't been long before she had outclassed him. Every once in a while she had tried to teach him a couple but for a man whose body and mind were slowly betraying him learning and remembering a forty-step line dance was simply out of the question.

She had loved the dances eagerly dawning western outfit hours practicing whatever they had been working on recently. It had always miffed him that the environment never seemed to get to her. Well that wasn't exactly true he amended thinking back. When the floor got too crowded she would panic and run to the nearest table and she had always brought a small army of cleaning supplies to disinfect any surface she might have to touch. There had been one time that nothing bothered her and that was when he had persuaded her to have a few drinks on her twenty-first birthday. It was all sorts of backward for the parent to be pressuring their twenty-one year old to "just try it once." He still remembered the look of confusion on the bartender's face as Emma had said "Hey little neuron this beer is for you," before she took a small sip. She was a goofy drunk and to his knowledge the hangover she had sported the next day kept her from ever consuming alcohol again and truthfully he was okay with that.

Politely he excused himself laughing all the way to the barn that a few years ago they had repainted in the stereotypical red with white trim fashion. It was the best looking building on the place surprising considering its age. The cement that he had helped his dad pour along the edges still displayed the paw prints of his first dog, a feisty little Rat Terrier named Skip. A large machine shed had been built on in later years spacious enough to store his blue International Harvester that he had very originally coined Big Blue along with numerous other pieces of farm equipment including a small red wagon his dad has always called Ol' Red. Looking at it now it should be changed to rust bucket. A forklift known as Little Holly was nestled next to a four-wheeler Emma and her brother had once rolled into a ditch. The nickname thing had been started by his father and he had half-heartedly continued it. It had been Emma who resurrected it when she had overheard him curse at the irrigation system that just happened to be green. It had been "greenie meanie" ever since.

Across from the entryway large enough to drive a tractor through was an exit with a plastic door that resembled what would be found on a garage. Skip had never waited for the door to be opened preferring instead to jump through the hole an angry sow had made when he and his father had been sorting the baby pigs. He had sold the hogs a few years after his dad passed away but right now he sort of wished he hadn't because it sure would be fun to put Will in a pen with some of them. They never really did any harm but they sure acted like they would at least the ones who weren't defending their young. Threatened mothers could cause some serious damage no matter the species. He probably would still have them if Emma hadn't become so terrified of their "messiness" that she had refused to go outside if she so much as smelled them. Pigs weren't really the smelly animals everyone thought they were. Just like every other mammal on the planet it was their waste that smelled.

Walking past a wooden ladder that led up to the hay loft that he could vividly remember cleaning out as a child he chuckled as the kittens began to meow furiously expecting him to climb up and give them their morning breakfast of calf-milk replacer and cat food. Mother cats would give birth up there all the time and their kittens would never figure out how to climb down even though the mothers would. Catering the feral cats that ran around the place was something his neighbors teased him endlessly about but as far as he saw it feeding them some cat food and milk only kept up their strength for mouse-hunting. It also deprived his neighbors of their cats his primary defense against the taunting.

As a young girl Emma had insisted one day that he let her feed the cats in the loft refusing to take no for an answer. Balancing a bucket full of milk in one hand, a peanut butter jar of cat food in the crook of his elbow while he had kept one hand on the small of Emma's back in case she slipped had proven interesting. Over and over he had told her that the loft really wasn't as exciting as she imagined knowing that once she was high enough to peer inside she would want nothing more than to run away. He had been right it had taken a while to calm her down. To this day Emma had never climbed that ladder again. He was fairly certain that not even Will would be able to change that.

"Sorry little guys I don't have anything for ya today but someone will be around soon enough."

Running behind schedule was perhaps his biggest pet peeve and Will had been perceptive enough to pick up on his agitation even though he hadn't said a word. When he had asked if there was anything he could do to help Will's expression showed that feeding cats was not what he expected to hear. In short he told Emma to show him what to do ready to bet a thousand dollars that Will would be the one balancing both milk and cat food on a certain wooden ladder.

His thoughts turned to Emma as he stood on the dirt-layered cement floor of the machine shed. He wished more than anything that his wife was still around to see Emma share pieces of her childhood that remained unaffected by the accident he blamed himself for with the man she loved. There had been countless nights he had woken to find her sitting out on the porch crying as she stared up at the stars. She was terrified her little girl was never going to find someone, it had been her biggest fear.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will poked Emma in the stomach with his free hand as the ever-present gravel crunched beneath their feet. Incorporating such actions here and there over the part of her body she abhorred was not uncalculated. After her adamant command for him to not place his hand there the other night the idea of slowly warming her to the gesture through random touches and caresses ranked right up there with random-interval endearments on his priority list.

Emma hadn't wanted to touch the combination of powder and water that currently was sloshing about in the beat up ice cream bucket at his side. The handle looked as iffy as the bucket did and he was just waiting for it to break. She had approached him after he had followed her instructions for mixing the concoction to sniff the air closing her eyes as she told him that it reminded her of her mother. He hadn't said anything in response squeezing her upper arm in lieu of words.

Returning his attention to the task at hand he sized up the ladder in front of him deducing that it appeared every bit as old as the barn which Emma not minutes ago had informed him had just turned a hundred and twenty years old a few months back. It was fashioned out of wood, the rungs rounded instead of flat were bowed severely in the center from years of use. _This looks safe._

Quickly Emma had given him the run down about how she wouldn't be accompanying him into the loft that he personally thought looked like a pretty cool place. She hadn't said what had scared her. Placing one hand on a rung keeping his feet on the ground he bounced up and down a couple times checking to make sure the potential death-trap would support his weight. _So far so good not that it matters when I'm not off the ground yet._

"Catch me if I fall?"

"How about side-step if you fall?" Emma still looked a bit uneasy but cracked a smile just the same.

"Oh I see how it is."

Beginning his climb Will was careful to center his foot on each rung before moving to the next. The ladder was sturdier than it had looked and his slight nervousness vanished by the time he reached the top. Peering inside the darkened expanse filled with more hay than he had ever seen in his life Will began to pour the milk into an old frying pan that at one time had been blue. He jumped when his eyes landed on the skeletal remains of what appeared to be a cat not inches away. _Okay I know why she won't come up here now. _

Emma must have been waiting for this moment as she called up that the kittens of cats who gave birth in the loft lived and died there never learning how to climb down the ladder. Being a guy determined to not let his girlfriend think a pile of bones scared him Will stepped through the square doorway treading carefully studying the ground every time he went to put his foot down.

They were everywhere. It was a cat grave yard and the sunlight casting beams through holes in the wood didn't make it any less creepy. Walking over to a mound of hay stacks he could see remains littered across the top. Lowering his gaze he leapt backwards tripping over his feet landing flat on his back at the sight of the not yet decayed body of an orange cat stuffed in between two bales right in front of him. He never looked to see if he had landed on anything drawing on the old adage that ignorance is bliss or in this case a way to prevent him from throwing up. _Who am I kidding? I'm a wimp, a wimp who agrees with his girlfriend._

* * *

After the cats had been fed it was back to the grindstone metaphorically speaking. More boxes as well as a large black trunk that had to be an antique had appeared while they had been outside of course placed right in the middle of the room. Will wondered who the culprit was.

Surprisingly Emma did not break into a panic her eyes falling on the trunk before she walked past the entire pile like it wasn't there. He watched her cross the carpet as if in a trance shakily placing her hands on a picture frame resting against the headboard of her bed as if at any moment it would burn her.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The first thing she noticed was the trunk that had belonged to her great-great grandmother. Emma's mother had always told her that one day she would give it to her. Emma knew without lifting the lid what was inside and wondered when her dad had overheard her and Will's humor infused bickering.

The second thing she noticed was a rich mahogany frame that had only held one picture for most of her life. It looked out of place on her bed, wrong. It was supposed to be in her mother's room on her dresser next to the wedding picture Emma had crept into the room to study countless times for reasons that varied with her age. Laughing at her dad's hairstyle had switched to marveling at her mother's flowing gown as her parent's grinned broadly into each other's eyes so very much in love.

Reaching out her hand she traced her fingers along the glass as memory after memory slipped back into her life.

A fourteen-year old version of herself with wind-ravaged hair and a toothy smile sat astride her childhood favorite of her mother's five beloved Quarter horses, Tiger. Her western-style blue checkered shirt was rumpled and her jeans torn at the knee made it look like she had grown up normal. Her mother was standing just to the side of Tiger her face glowing as she pressed her cheek into his angling his head with one hand so the he too was staring into the camera.

That entire day had been lazy and care-free. Emma hadn't thought about it in years. It was too painful. It represented not only a conflict free day with her mother but a taunting glimpse into what her life might be like if she wasn't the way she was. How things might have been different if she hadn't grown up crazy.

They had spent hours on horse trails counting signs as they plodded along at a recreational man-made lake a few miles from town. It was something they did often during the warm days of summer. It was something she would give anything to be able to do again.

Emma still laughed and cringed at the numerous stories and jokes they had fabricated about the owner of the park. Emma never had learned his name outside of the one they had given him. It was an ongoing theme to make witty suggestions that they could call to the attention of Sign Guy so he would have a project to keep him busy. They had joked about mentioning that they needed to be put up in Spanish for the Hispanic families that held picnics almost every weekend. Emma's favorite was her mom's suggestion that they should go out one night and turn as many as they could upside down. The man went beyond overboard with his signs even to the point of lining them up vertically along a light pole.

Her mother had always possessed more of a rebellious streak than Emma purposefully breaking every printed rule and regulation they encountered most of them rather noticeably because it was pretty hard to miss a horse especially one with a black coat that shimmered brilliantly in the sun.

It had only been a matter of time before Sign Guy on one of his frequent patrols forever on the look-out for rule-breakers had found just that in the form of her mother purposefully parking her horse, Emanon directly in front of the small, white, weather-worn sign that had at one time upheld its message in red. Emma had made a hasty about-face with Tiger horrified when the man skidded his pick-up to a halt leaving it in park as he strode towards her mother demanding to know why she was blatantly ignoring a very important rule. Her uneasiness about the confrontation had faded as soon as her mother had deadpanned that the sign said nothing about horses not being allowed on the playground. Sign Guy had stormed off grumbling to himself and not a month later a new sign replaced the old one stating that both dogs and horses were strictly forbidden from the play area. The whole-hearted laughter that erupted from her mother causing her whole body to shake still rang in her ears like the whole incident had just happened yesterday. With a wicked look in her eyes her mother had trotted Emanon not only down the middle of the sand filled square but around every piece of equipment claiming that it was the perfect place to practice his turns. Emma remembered her own laughter at the lie just as vividly as she recalled her mothers.

For years she had hoped that some of her mother's dare-devil brazen would spontaneously manifest in her and for just as long now she accepted that it would never happen.

Horses were one of the few things they could really bond over and it had been her mother who taught her. She loved to ride even if it was never as simple as climbing atop a horse and taking off. Her problems had ripped away many of the pleasures in her past and present but she had forged through it for the quality time with her mother.

Getting ready to mount Tiger had been an elaborate, usually hour-long process that if not done in the correct sequence or to her exacting standards would be started over until she got it right. Her mother had always defended her telling off curious onlookers when they lingered just a little too long or worse laughed. Thinking back Emma couldn't blame them.

After her mom backed Tiger out of the horse trailer Emma refused to go near she had been able to take over. Grabbing the tack she had painstakingly disinfected three times the night before she would place it neatly on a towel spread out next to the quarter horses' front hooves. She could never just throw the gear on him without using a curry brush on him six times. The most difficult part was the saddle blanket. Emma would drape and meticulously re-position it sometimes by mere inches until it rested perfectly along Tiger's top line. Next she would step back to examine her handiwork before zeroing in on any wrinkles that may have been present. The material had been thick ensuring that there weren't many but that didn't stop Emma from running her hands over it anyways. Her final step was carefully combing out his flowing black mane making sure that not one strand of hair laid on the other side of his neck before moving on to his tail while a voice less intense than the one she had now told her how stupid her routines were because her work would be dashed as soon as she climbed on the horse. It told her how pathetic she was for not being able to stop herself. That criticism had certainly hung around.

Even while riding there were issues she had to deal with. When Tiger began to sweat under the hot Virginia sun Emma would put on the gloves always at the ready in her "OCD saddle bag" a nickname devised by her mother that even she had used. If any part of her body brushed against the heated animal between her legs she would stop no matter how fast they were going to disinfect. The only reason she wore the gloves was because she was insistent that despite everything the love pats she freely bestowed on Tiger's neck and withers would not be taken away like so many of the things she had once loved.

One time she had fallen off crashing on to her side victimized by an unnoticed tree branch that had caught her in the face depositing her directly on to a gopher mound. At fourteen her mother had to wipe her down because she had been so pathetic, so consumed with fear that she had been rooted to the spot. She was still that pathetic little girl twenty-four years later.

That day she had learned why her mom always rode with two saddle bags strapped to Emanon. In one was a spare set of clothes for Emma. Her mother had eventually coaxed her into a heavily wooded area walking in front of her to take the brunt of the cobwebs that always caused Emma to panic until someone removed the stringy material. A red, flannel shirt had been spread out at her feet and Emma could still remember her mother's words as she stood before Emma in a bra and jeans.

"…so you want have to step in the dirt darlin,' now hurry up I wanna ride. Don't think this is getting you out of our traditional race even though you don't have a chance at beating me anyways."

Her mother had continued to make jokes as Emma changed clothes even causing her to laugh when a couple had alluded to her having worn less in the woods.

For the first time clutching what had become a two-dimensional time capsule to her chest Emma recognized a part of the man she loved in the woman he had watched die before he even had the chance to get to know her. The tears that had slowly been gathering began to roll down her cheeks with that one thought.

She hadn't realized Will had silently moved up behind her until she felt a pair of hands under her arms raising her up from her defeated position on the bed and into a warm body with comforting, strong arms that held her close as snot and tears soaked through the thin material of a T-shirt that had been washed one too many times. A hand came up tucking her head underneath a chin covered with two days worth of stubble resting gently in her hair as another traced circular motions along her back. No words were exchanged as Emma clung to the only thing that was keeping her panic attack at bay, the picture caught between them rising and falling in time with his even breaths her mother's smiling face gazing lovingly into her tear-filled eyes.

For what seemed like hours he simply held her against his body.

* * *

**Will's POV**

There would never be anything more he could do except hold Emma and wish like hell that he could take away her pain. Her eyes were riveted on the picture that was flattened against his chest clearly focused on her mother. The picture was so simple but the memories behind it most certainly were not.

When she had finally removed herself from his arms her face was still red and her eyes still puffy but there was a glint that meant she was planning something which usually never boded well for him.

He had been wondering about the contents of the massive trunk that selfishly took up one of the few spaces they had managed to clear out. Following in Emma's well-placed foot steps designed to avoid the mass of boxes blocking a direct path still hadn't prevented him from tripping over one landing on his stomach cursing as the corner of box that didn't have the right to be so pointed jammed into his abdomen.

Emma laughed lightly as she turned to take in what he had gotten himself into this time and Will cursed as she pulled out her phone aiming it directly at his face.

"You're a sort of a klutz you know that?"

"Shut up and delete that picture."

"I think you're lack of coordination off the dance floor is cute."

"So nice to know you care and it's not cute it's painful."

Picking himself up he took note of the smashed cardboard that had once been rectangular in shape and hoped it didn't contain anything breakable. Emma was unlocking the trunk now lifting the lid throwing her head over one shoulder to grin evilly at him. Curiosity as usual won out and Will peered over her shoulder regretting his earlier proposition when he laid eyes on a wide assortment of western-style shirts, jeans, cowboy hats of varying colors and to his misfortune, boots. How the hell did they get all that in there?

"You've got to be kidding."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him.

"Hey look clothes!" he amended.

"Some of them belonged to my father, a few to my brother and as you so nicely promised this morning you get to model until I find a combination I like."

"Do I have any say in this?"

"No."

She was rifling through the trunk laying clothes neatly all around her and Will told himself that he could do this if it meant she would eat although he was regretting the forty-eight hours part. Why did I add that? Crap I told her we could go to that dance too. What was I thinking?

"You're dressing up too right?"

"Of course," she sounded genuinely surprised at his question and as he stood there trying to picture what Emma would look like he found another reason to follow through with his promise.

"I called Gates and cancelled the meeting today. He's short on free-time so we haven't set up another time yet but he assured me we would," a light hint of disappointment laced her voice until she found the shirt she must have been digging for tossing it at him giggling when it smacked him in the face.

If he ignored the last part of that sentence he had reason number three.

For the second time in twenty minutes Emma stood in front of him unbuttoning and re-buttoning a long-sleeved country-themed dress shirt. The first time had been an accident but her comment about it being no different than any other shirt with buttons as she had clamored over the boxes to fix his mistake causing his breath to hitch as he watched her nimble fingers her body inches from his with an adorable look of concentration adorning her face was more than worth purposefully playing the fool.

Once Emma had finally decided what humiliation she wanted to subject him to and he had changed into yet another set of western garb Emma claimed was for "everyday stuff" he grabbed her by the arm dragging her down the hall towards the stairs conveniently forgetting his no complaining rule as he whined that the jeans were too tight which had only earned him a slap on the rear. His eyes widened his throat suddenly dry as attempted to school his voice long enough to tell Emma it was lunchtime. Okay, maybe the jeans aren't so bad. These boots are awkward as hell though.

* * *

Will ignored the smirk on his rival's face when he entered the kitchen ducking his head and blushing at Emma's father's approving grin at his attire. He didn't miss the sly exchange between father and daughter telling him exactly who the mastermind behind the mysterious appearance of the trunk was.

Settling into a chair beside Emma Will eyed the stove her father was hovering over suspiciously as the smell of grilled-cheese sandwiches filled the air. He remembered Emma's plastic spatula story.

Grilled-cheese would not have been his first choice given what Emma had poked her way through this morning but he wasn't going to bustle about making something else unless she asked or panicked enough that he pushed aside his apprehension about disrespecting the farmer's efforts and made her something different anyways.

Emma's eyes were huge as she turned to face him whispered "cheese." That one word made him want to bang his head against the table. This was not going to be easy. Dairy products were something he hadn't even attempted to broach since the whole thing with the milk. Why in the world would he make this? He knows about her aversion to dairy.

Her father's sheepish expression as he apologized to Emma confessing that his cooking skills hadn't improved much left Will wondering if he had accidently spoken his question out loud. Emma mumbled that it was okay clearly not okay with the three-sided threat before her. Four, Will corrected but one he could do something about. Standing up he was glad he found the silverware drawer even though he hadn't been able to remember where it was. Opening every drawer in the kitchen would draw more attention then he wanted. Setting the fork and knife next to Emma he offered a small smile of encouragement when her eyes flicked over to him while her head remained angled towards the plate. Now we are down to three, grease, dairy and unsafe. That's not making me feel any better about this.

Taking the lead he placed a hand on her knee as he took a small bite of his own sandwich mentally telling her she would be fine as she wrapped her fingers around the fork doing the same with the knife he gave her a small squeeze when she stilled half-way along her journey to the plate.

Will hoped that whatever effect he had that allowed Emma to continue something she so obviously wanted to run from never wore off. Slicing through the bread and melted cheese she raised the fork to her mouth and then lowered it back down. On her third attempt Will snuck a glance at the two men across from them her father commendably remained focused on his own food her brother on the other hand was shooting her quizzical looks that were looking more and more like a smirk.

Will cleared his throat loudly to attract the man's attention pinning him with a glare that was a couple steps above a warning.

"Ems, it's not that hard. Grab the fork which by the way is still a bit on the pathetic side open your mouth place the food inside, chew, swallow and repeat."

Will didn't try to stop Emma when the fork landed on the carpeted floor with a dull thud as she pushed her chair back running from the room. He would deal with that later right now he had bigger fish to fry.

Her father was glaring at his son now too as Will stalked around the table placing a hand on the man's shoulder resisting the urge to strangle him.

"Would you mind stepping outside please?"

There was absolutely nothing polite about his request his tone was cold, harsh and about ten levels past angry. When he stubbornly remained sitting Will roughly pulled his chair out forcing him to stand up by finding a pressure point along his neck which he continued to bear down on until he got to the door. Releasing his grip Will reached around to push on the handle kicking the door open as he fisted his hands into the back of his victim's shirt shoving the him out the door resisting another urge to place a foot in front of one leg to ensure that his fantasy of the sound of knees cracking onto unforgiving cement would become reality.

Not bothering to properly close the door Will spun the man around taking satisfaction in the hint of fear visible in his eyes as he slammed him up against the wall of the house using more pressure than necessary as he pressed his forearm across the man's chest to prevent him from getting away. Not so tough now huh?

"What the hell is your problem? I've put up with your bullshit long enough. You have been harassing her since the moment we arrived. I'm a very patient person until someone goes after her. You, asshole, have crossed that line one too many times."

He wasn't yelling. His voice was controlled yet slick with contempt for the man he had wanted to throttle since his first comment to Emma.

"Hey man, simmer down. I don't know what you see in her but I didn't mean any harm honest."

Will punched him.

"I see everything in her and I don't give a damn if you meant any harm or not because you've hurt her more than once. You're comments these last few days have hurt her. You're the reason she has to struggle through every day with things you don't think twice about. You're the goddamn reason she thinks she's crazy, why she won't believe me when I tell her she's not. Don't you see what you have done to her? What you have done to her life? Stay away from, don't talk to her and if you so much as look at her wrong I will finish what I started here and trust me I will enjoy it, the chance to cause you just as much pain as you have caused her."

Will pulled the man forward and shoved him against the wall one more time just because he wanted to before removing his arm his eyes fixated on the other man's face.

Pivoting sharply to his left Will calmly walked back inside stopped by a hand on his shoulder as he set foot in the living room. A chill ran through him when the hand turned him around bringing him face to face with Emma's father.

"Good job son. You had the guts to do something I've wanted to do for years and as far as putting him in his place if he messes up again, permission granted. Now go check her, make sure she's okay and tell her I'm sorry for letting this get so out of hand."

He was fairly certain his face was devoid of any emotion while he wrapped his mind around those words. A quick nod was all he was capable of as he turned in the direction of the door that led to what he hoped wouldn't be the inconsolable, emotional train-wreck version of Emma.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

As she ran from another situation she didn't want to deal with accompanied only by tears and labored breathing Emma heard Will using his trademark no room for leeway question that wasn't a question and from the hiss of pain a few seconds later from her brother Emma knew he hadn't listened.

Emma bounded up the stairs taking two at a time altering her course when she heard the storm door open. There were no windows facing this side of the house in her room but there was one very large one in her brother's room and she wanted to see what was going on. She steadfastly refused to admit that the only reason she wanted to watch Will confront her brother was because she wanted to see him defend her, stand up for her.

Pulling back the curtains her brother always kept drawn the scene unfolding below her chased away her earlier panic. Emma held her breath as Will forced her brother into the wall holding him there with a well-placed arm. Emma squeezed her eyes closed not wanting to see her brother break away and lunge at Will. Forcing herself to open them again she could see the anger written all over Will's face as he held himself inches from the man who had caused her so much pain over the years. She couldn't hear what he was saying and even if she could lip-read it would be impossible to pick up anything from his tight-lipped words.

Emma's mouth dropped open when Will's right fist previously clenched at his side cracked into her brother's jaw. When he stated talking again she was amazed that he still wasn't yelling if he was she would be able to hear it. Just when she thought he was done Will slammed her brother into the wall again a threatening look with a hint of glee on his face. Emma felt a surge of something she couldn't identify course through her body. Images of Will's behavior at the dog show flickered across her mind and just like that the unidentifiable sensation had a name.

She was still glued to her spot in front of the window when she heard Will's voice softly asking if she was okay. She didn't dare turn around. It would be really inappropriate to jump him, wouldn't it?

Tensing as the floor creaked indicating he was closing the distance between them Emma tried to push the memory of what Will had just done for her anywhere other than the forefront of her mind. Her resolve splintered as he spoke.

"Hey sweetie I'm sorry you had to see that."

His voice was soothing and all she wanted to do was throw herself at him like some horny teenager.

Her resolve abandoned her completely when he snaked his arms around her waist in what he probably thought was a needed, supportive gesture on her part. It wasn't emotional support that Emma needed. Even through her clothes her skin seemed to tingle beneath his touch.

Whirling around she broke free of his grasp roughly grabbing his torso as she moved to slam him against the nearest wall much like he had done moments before except he probably hadn't been intent on kissing her brother.

A burst of air pushed past his lips as he collided with the surface behind him and Emma didn't care that her mouth and tongue prevented him from drawing in a gulp of oxygen. He was motionless beneath her. Obviously she needed to clarify the situation.

"Do you have any idea how hot it was to watch you like that?" pausing she threw back the words he had thrown so many times at her, "I can show you Will. Right here, right now."

Emma latched onto one of his hands placing it palm up between her legs knowing that even through her jeans he would feel the heat pooling.

"See," she breathed into his ear.

"Feel," he ground out huskily as he picked her up urging her to wrap her legs around her waist so he could carry her down the hall.

Her shriek at Will dropping her onto the bed instead of gently lowering her like he usually did was cut off almost before it started when his body fell heavily onto hers as his mouth greedily found her lips.

Emma pressed her lower half against him and he broke away with a low grown that turned into a growl when her cell went off.

"Alarm," she mumbled breathlessly against him, "dance."

"Do we have to?" he sounded like a five-year old trying to convince his parents to stay home from church so he could watch Sunday morning cartoons.

"You promised."

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will sighed against the mirror before walking out to see if he passed Emma's inspection. The solid black western shirt save for the patches of swirly, white lines that he had stopped trying to decipher a pattern within was just not him. The dark blue jeans that were only a few shades away from black Emma had shoved into his hands were tighter than the everyday pair she had forced him to wear. Boot-cut was a term he could live with after it had been around a while but slim-fit was something that should never be applied to men's jeans especially when all it translated into was, "Harder than hell to get on. Enjoy peeling off later."

"These feel like they've never been worn before."

Emma fixed him with an award-winning smile as she confessed that maybe she had stolen a peak at his jean size and that maybe she had gone out and bought them. He mentally omitted the maybes.

The boots were simple enough brown with a rounded-toe and a slick bottom that would make dancing a bit easier and the hat, in all honesty he didn't mind it even if it was black. Glad that his torture session was almost over Will headed for the door only to be blocked by a grinning Emma holding a black leather belt with a large silver buckle affixed to it.

"No way."

Being able to leave his shirt un-tucked was the equivalent to listening to a static filled station for god knows how many miles before giving into country. It was the one thing that made him feel just a little confident that someone wouldn't call him out as a poser as soon as he walked in the door.

Emma hadn't backed down instead she had gotten him to voluntarily back down by unzipping his jeans and expertly tucking the tails of his shirt inside them her hands lingering a little longer than they should have on his backside. At that moment Will didn't care that she was threading a strap of leather through his belt loops. He was too busy considering un-tucking his shirt on the off chance she might fix it again. Assuming she was finished he started to back away only to have two small hands land on his hips. Will chuckled as Emma's OCD kicked in as she circled his body making sure she had pulled his shirt up the same amount all the way around.

He knew she was checking him out as he leaned over the driver's seat to grab the keys their impromptu make-out session in the parking lot had nearly caused him to forget. There were very few times in Will's life where he felt self-conscious but this was a high ranking one. Every aspect of his attire was miles away from his comfort zone especially considering he was moments away from walking into a public establishment.

Whirling around he caught Emma off guard practically undressing her with his eyes the way she probably had been doing with him seconds earlier. He had been one-hundred percent correct that seeing Emma dressed like this would be worth him suffering through his own fate.

When she had walked out of the bathroom he really had stopped breathing.

Her shirt was in the same general style as his but it was so very Emma with its designs that varied in shades from a dark pink to a light pastel. The combination of colors caused her hair to seem more vivid than usual which Will hadn't thought possible. As he moved closer he noticed that the swirls on her shirt actually formed something. Flowers not quite detailed enough to be recognized as such from a distance covered the fabric. The top couple buttons were undone leaving a decent portion of her chest visible. What had really stopped him in his tracks were the jeans. If his were slim-fit then hers were slim-fit times three. They were a medium shade of blue stone-washed along the upper leg and they accentuated her body perfectly. She averted her eyes as she told him she had stumbled across them in her closet. The boots also like his were a simple brown but they looked so much sexier on her.

Refocusing on the real-life Emma before him his mouth parted as she placed a cowboy hat he hadn't even noticed she was hiding behind her back atop her head. It was white with a dark pink hat band that matched her shirt. It was perfect. She was beautiful. He was hopeless.

Will hadn't been prepared for the wall of sound that smacked into him as he held the door for Emma. Not only was it overwhelmingly loud it also was overwhelmingly riddled with steel-guitar and twang. It was like the local radio stations but ten times worse. Live music didn't come with volume control.

Will had no idea that a line dance could be so difficult. Actually the only line dance he had ever heard of was the Electric Slide and the one time the people around him had started to do it they had inserted so many extra steps that he was lost after the initial grapevine. This was actually more embarrassing than the clothes. Emma was graceful, elegant and never fell out of step laughing and clapping occasionally which Will had quickly learned was code for "Okay now everyone else clap with me when that step rolls around again."

For a while he had sat along the sidelines drinking her in while simultaneously trying to memorize whatever dance was taking place. He smiled very impressed when Emma caught on to one she obviously had not done before after watching what to Will had blurred into a sea of jean-clad legs with boots go through the first series of steps only a couple times. It made sense if he knew the basics of a dance style he caught on quick too. That was what got him out on the floor again. He knew tons of genres of dance which at some point had to work in his favor.

By working in his favor he hadn't meant that he would fall painfully on his rear attempting to throw in a high-kick in time with everyone else.

Emma had been patient with his sudden development of two-left feet moving them off to the side so she could run through the kicks, twists and hip movements without him having to be in the middle of a crowd of line dance experts. To his dismay Emma had caught on after only four repetitions that Will really didn't have a problem with the hip movements.

He recognized the opening notes to Copperhead Road and grinned thinking that maybe he could try this one. Knowing the song had to be an advantage. Glancing to his right he found Emma had vanished. _She just abandoned me for a line dance… I abandoned her for a dog._

It didn't take him long to learn that Copperhead Road had its own dance of the same name that was so complicated Will was having a hard time figuring out where the steps began to repeat. He gave up counting the steps when he reached twenty-one.

By two in the morning Emma had successfully taught him a couple things and he had enjoyed dancing alongside her for the most part keeping up. The highlight had been the eventual onset of slow songs because those were always the same. He had held her flush against him as they circled the floor occasionally spinning her around and pulling her in for a kiss. Forty-seven was the number of times he had been able to casually touch her stomach and thirty-three was the number of times Emma hadn't tensed or removed his hand.

By four in the morning they were back home and Will having eventually won his fifteen minute struggle with the jeans he would only ever wear for the little countrified vixen he had met tonight was now snuggled up to Emma as he secretly wished she would have kept hers' on. Not that he was knocking the pair of shorts she had replaced them with. Shorts just meant easier access to more of the soft skin he could never get enough of.

They had kissed for a while both too exhausted to do anything more than that.

Will was half-asleep when Emma rotated in his arms her breath warm against his throat.

"I love you Will."

His slurred reply was barely comprehensible. Will was too tired to even try to fix that mess.

"I'm going to teach you to ride you know," Emma trailed off seductively.

Definitely awake now.

"What?" His earlier run together words were reduced to a mono-syllabic croak.

Emma giggled all hints of playfulness gone as she whispered into his ear.

"A horse Will, I'm going to teach you how to ride a horse."

* * *

A/N: This one actually got to me, the section with Emma remembering her mom. In the definition of cruel irony I stumbled across a picture of my mom and I at a dog show buried in the pages of one of her books. Score one for reality.

Hope you guys enjoyed. Sorry it was so long!


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Don't shoot me guys the next chapter will make up for it.

I've been feeling a bit under the weather (okay a lot under the weather) so I apologize if I missed more errors than I (disgustingly enough) usually do.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

**Will's POV**

It was the sunlight piercing through his eyelids that made him forfeit his forty-five minute game of tug of war between bordering on the edge of sleep and having to admit he wasn't going to be able to cross that border.

Will rolled over to tell Emma good morning only to find his gaze returned by a purple wall. He groaned as he forced himself to throw the covers back wincing as his muscles told him that instead of standing up he should stay in bed. Glancing down he noticed the small patch of wrinkle-free blankets next to the pile of chaos spilling onto the floor that he had just crawled out from under and shook his head. _I will never understand how she is able to do that._

The birds chirping cheerfully he decided deserved to be shot with the rifle he had caught a glimpse of in a coat closet while the sunlight streaming threw the window at the other end of the hall needed a heavy dose of cloud cover. It was already the cause of an unintended introduction to a bookshelf he could have sworn wasn't there before.

He was barely able to function, both his mind and body operating under the logic that it was asinine to be up this early after being out so late. While he didn't know what time it was the angle of the sun he had just turned his back to as he began to head downstairs told him all he needed to know sans details.

After almost taking the speedy yet painful way down the stairs twice within four steps Will opted that a shower sounded like a pretty decent idea. As soon as he pushed the door open using more force than normal when the bottom drug along the carpet the spicy aroma of his mother's cinnamon and brown sugar muffins wafted into his nose instantly transporting him back to a time when he had been too short to see over the kitchen counter. Grabbing a couple plush, deep rose-colored towels from the bathroom cabinet Will allowed the sound of falling water to propel him further into the memory.

His mom's specialty and his favorite breakfast had always been her cinnamon and brown sugar muffins. She would never use a recipe instead operating off of her grandmother's word of mouth which also meant she never used exact measurements something the women of his family were quite adept at. After a few butchered attempts over the years Will learned that the art form had not been passed onto him.

He would watch intently as his mother mixed the batter in a large, robin- egg blue mixing bowl. She always used the same dish and sometimes he wondered if that wasn't one of the reasons his muffins never turned out as good as hers no matter how illogical the notion was. With a wooden spoon she would scoop the gooey substance into little paper cups on a large twelve-count muffin pan. Will had always thought himself pretty clever when he would claim that he heard something and race out of the kitchen to see what it was only to lick the stolen batter off his finger. Now that he was older it was almost embarrassing to think about. When your son runs into the other room anywhere from three to five times in the course of maybe ten minutes to check on a mysterious noise while the level of batter in the cup within his reach steadily declines it would be pretty impossible not to catch on. She had never called him out. He always meant to ask if that was the reason she would sprinkle flour into his hair when he climbed back up next to her telling him that he would make a funny looking old man when his brown curls turned white. Stepping under the warm stream of water Will laughed when hindsight in combination with foresight brought into focus the knowledge that his life was going be one never-ending series of hair jokes. _Maybe I should write a book._

The shower had served its purpose as he followed his nose into the kitchen stopping mid-stride at the sight of Emma staring intently into the stove that even through the black-grated filter he could see contained a small tray of eight muffins well on their way to ready to eat. A huge smile found its way to his face as he crossed the room coming up behind Emma placing his hands on her hips admiring the view of her jean-clad rear as he did so.

"Hey there sexy lady, what's all this?"

Emma ducked her head and Will immediately kicked himself for not thinking before he spoke. It had taken weeks before she wouldn't hide a sandwich beneath her desk if a student walked by, weeks before she was comfortable allowing anyone to see her eat other than him it made perfect sense in her imperfect logic that someone seeing her cook would magnify the shame she felt by a thousand.

"This is amazing Em, your amazing. Thank you."

"Even if I had to wear plastic gloves the entire time?" her tone belied just how insecure she was about the entire situation.

"Especially because of that, you know I can't hear the crinkle of plastic without thinking of you. I've grown to love that sound and you would be proud to know that some of your psych jargon does stick. What's my reward for being able to indentify my reaction as a byproduct of Pavlovian Conditioning?"

"My likening you to a salivating dog, a gold star or a kiss. Your choice." Emma deadpanned.

"I choose option number three, although I have to admit it was a difficult decision. I never got a lot of gold stars as a boy."

Emma laughed turning around in his arms placing a quick kiss on his lips while admonishing that his lack of five-pointed bribes for a job well done were probably the result of his own doing rather than a bias on the behalf of his first-grade teacher.

When she pulled away Will's eyes skimmed over the bright pink lettering across her chest.

"No…I haven't."

Before Emma could ask what he was referring to Will wrapped her in a tight hug saying that he had now officially hugged his cowgirl for the day.

An obnoxious orange canister straight from the seventies covered in flowers of a light yellow just behind Emma caught his attention. He could see the white, powdery residue that clung to the edges an idea forming in his mind as he reached behind her and dipped his hand inside using a broad grin as a diversion so she wouldn't notice what he was doing.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously when she did catch him placing one hand behind his back and he knew his own were giving him away.

"I want a do-over."

Emma's gaze shifted from his arm to the lopsided smile he was wearing just for her as her expression changed from suspicion to confusion.

"I want a do-over on one moment, one single moment…that changed my life."

Will slowly brought his hand out from behind him raising his index finger to the tip of Emma's nose leaving a small smudge of flour where the tip brushed against her skin. Just as slowly he wiped it away with his forearm leaning forward to place a close-lipped kiss against her mouth.

"You don't know how many times I have relived that night in my head and how many times I envisioned it playing out just like that."

Emma's eyes were round and slightly glossy as she replied with a heart-felt "me too."

The monotone buzz of a timer that belonged to the stove Will assumed was older than the hills broke the tenderness between them and Will snatched the hot pad Emma had grabbed out of her hand ordering her to go sit down as the creaking oven door made him add a couple years to his ten year estimate.

She had even set the table informing him from her seat that her father was out doing chores and a couple other errands that she refused to divulge would keep him most of the day. There was a hint of something in her voice that he wasn't able to identify that made him wonder what it was her father was doing. Will was leery of him after the whole clothing-filled trunk incident. Clearly the man enjoyed aiding Emma in torturous plots against him.

Still grinning at him Emma took a small bite out of a muffin motioning for him to do the same. Will looked up in surprise when they tasted just like his mom's. Her grin slid into an almost melodious giggle when she told him that she had opened one of his letters by mistake and found the recipe which according to her had contained the exact measurements that his mother had apparently lied about possessing. Emma swallowed another bite before she told him that on the back it had explained that after so many years of making them she could tell by feel how much of what ingredient to use. Will huffed mumbling that after over a decade of botched muffins his mother should have taken pity on him. His complaint was met with a crumb hitting him in the cheek. Emma obviously did not think the issue as upsetting as he did.

They continued lobbing amicable and playful banter across the table through two more muffins when Emma suddenly sat up straight dropping a bite of butter-covered muffin on her plate as she mouthed the word "no" under her breath. Will chewed his way through his last piece as she got up and ran to the bathroom.

The fact that she had not bothered to go back and close the door that had not latched behind her and that it had been almost five minutes was too out of place for him to ignore. In a matter of seconds he was a few feet away from entering the bathroom pausing as he considered whether he really should disturb her or not.

Faint whispers that contained the word fat flung the idea of propriety out the window.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

_No. Absolutely not. It's not possible. Ignore it._

Emma played along with Will's easy-going comments as they sat across from each other taking every opportunity she could to tease him about something in the hopes it would distract her from what was becoming an increasingly difficult sensation to ignore.

The third time a warm, liquid feeling manifested between her legs Emma stopped trying to forget what was going on.

Racing into the bathroom she blindly shoved at the door behind her wasting no time pulling her pants and underwear down in contrast stealing time in the form of twenty whispered seconds before she looked down.

_Blood._

"No, no, no I don't weigh enough. What if I do? I don't know what I weigh! What if I am that fat? Oh my God no."

One of the remaining grasps she had that she wasn't grotesquely overweight was the fact that she hadn't restarted her period. She had gone so long without it that the concept of having it seemed alien. Amenorrhea set in according to the textbook definition around 103-109 pounds and she refused to believe that she fell into that range. A footnote she had read about the actual onset varying for different people was the last fraying strand of rope keeping her thoughts somewhat under control as she tore off everything but her bra and underwear fixing her eyes on the cabinet in front of her that so far she had been able to push from her mind.

It was there and she had known before it they had even arrived. Her mother had always struggled with her weight and went through phases where she would diet. After her diagnosis her weight had fluctuated violently. Emma could still recall her mother's glee as she excitedly showed off a pair of jeans that were two sizes smaller than the ones she had been wearing for three years. Emma had not been impressed knowing that the medication she was on had been making it next to impossible for her mother to keep food down was to blame. When she had been switched to prednozone her weight had ballooned again and when she died it was at the highest it had ever been. She had never thought about weight gain from medication before but now that she did she admired her mother for sticking to the prescription. She definitely wouldn't no matter what the consequences were.

Crawling forward she began muttering things about how she was hopelessly fat and disgusting it was that her body viewed her as healthy enough to function normally. It didn't help matters that the voice had popped into existence quite content to agree with everything she said adding insults as it did so.

_You really didn't think you could get away with this forever did you? I kept telling you sooner or later it was going to catch up, sooner or later you would realize the gravity of what you are doing. That warm feeling between your legs right now, that's nothing more than iron-filled proof of how fat you have become, how far you have let yourself fall, how severely you have allowed yourself to fail. He's really going to think you're revolting now. _

_Do it. Check your weight. You know you can't resist. You know you have to know. That's right make sure it's accurate, wouldn't want it to read under by a few pounds would we? Wouldn't matter if it read over, the number will be far too high as It is._

She didn't know how old the scale was and she didn't care as the weight of the object between her fingers felt oddly comforting as she lowered it to the floor adjusting the rotating dial on the side to make sure it was zeroed.

A large, warm hand latched onto her wrist before she could pull her hand back.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Emma was huddled on the ground kneeling in front of something he wasn't at the right angle to be able to identify. Shifting to the left his breath caught as he watched her zeroing a scale with a sickening amount of precision. _I can't let her see her weight. There's a reason Kristen didn't want her to see. _

His footsteps went unnoticed courtesy of the carpeting beneath them and he dropped down to his knees smoothly grasping her hand just as she was about to remove it.

"Will, wha-, Will let me go. I need to do this." Her voice was controlled with no hint of the panic he had been prepared for as she moved her other hand to get the scale before he did.

"Emma, you don't need this. It's only going to make things worse, we both know that. Give it to me, we can go talk. This will only make things harder."

She wasn't relinquishing her hold and was starting to move towards the scale despite his grip on her wrist. He didn't try to ask her again before he let go and forcefully pulled the scale out of her other hand settling it between him and the wall he was now using to his advantage.

"Will, please, it won't make anything harder. It won't change anything I just want to know." Small amounts of panic were audible in what he knew was a lie even if she did believe it on some level.

"Then why do you want to know?"

Emma remained silent looking down at the floor as she pulled her knees up to her chest. Will sat waiting for her to respond his mind ticking off possible triggers. It couldn't have been breakfast whatever this was had come about too fast for that. She hadn't seemed to have been arguing with the voice at any point since he had been awake. He was running out of ideas and she was stubbornly refusing to provide more.

Will was resigning himself to having to play detective when her current position afforded him the only clue he needed. Visible between her calves was a small red splotch on the underside of her otherwise white underwear. This entire situation had just jumped past awkward settling into the realm of things a smidge more personal than he wanted to discuss.

Will focused his gaze on the tub not relishing the idea of Emma catching him staring. He had read about women losing their period in more eating disorder material than he cared to remember. One recovered woman had described the first month she didn't menstruate as the next best thing to actually seeing the diagnosis because it was an irrefutable piece of evidence that she was succeeding. The same woman had also talked of the day she got her period back and how the feelings were of the same intensity as when she had lost it except they were for entirely different reasons. Her body's message of starting to return to a state of equilibrium only drove home that she was getting fat, that she was losing the identity she had worked so hard to achieve and that up until that day she had been able to distance herself from what she was doing. Her following statement that this, in combination with unexpected stressors as well as still being a victim to her eating disordered mindset was what triggered the first of her two relapses was knowledge he was torn between being thankful for and wishing he never acquired to begin with.

This was a two-pronged problem with Emma. In a conversation entirely unrelated to eating disorders but directly related to her one time encounter with self-injury while they lay in bed one night had left him privy to something he had always wondered about but had decided to never ask.

While telling Will that she still could not believe she had intentionally drawn blood Emma had rambled on almost as if she was unaware of what she was saying that she detested menstruation. Her Mysophobia made the entire ordeal far too complicated and her aversion to pumping her body full of hormone-altering chemicals prevented her from doing anything about it. Her shy admission that tampons and plastic gloves were the only things that allowed her to survive the monthly curse of being female with her sanity intact had probably left her blushing the way her comment that she would step down from her views on birth control for him had without a doubt left them both thankful for the shroud of darkness.

None of that was helping him devise a way to address this without unintentionally conveying that she was becoming what she feared when they both knew what was happening was a direct result of her recent weight gain.

"It's natural you know. It's not a bad thing. It just means that your body is thanking you for taking care of it." _Lame._

Despite his fumble Emma picked up the ball.

"It's worse than a bad thing it means I'm getting closer to a normal weight which means I'm getting fat and on top of everything else it's disgusting natural or not." Hatred colored her words brilliantly.

Will shifted closer to her figuring the scale was safe for the time being mentally adding a third prong when Emma shied away from the hand he placed on her shoulder asking him what part of disgusting he didn't understand supplementing that he didn't have to touch her right now because she wouldn't want to.

"Hey," he lifted her chin with one finger, "it doesn't bother me and it definitely is not enough to make me not want to touch you. It would take a hell of a lot more than this to accomplish that, something along the lines of you somehow having been on the receiving end of the kids ill-timed side-effects of a night of drinking would probably make me dawn some gloves though."

His joke paid off rewarding him with a slight upturn of a corner of her mouth that was immediately chased with a shudder at the implication of his words. Will rocked back onto his heels deciding the danger had passed and that he should probably leave Emma alone to do whatever it was she needed to do. He still grabbed the scale determined to hide it somewhere hoping he could find a place remote enough that someone who had grown up here wouldn't locate. The outdoors seemed like the only viable option.

Stopping at the door he looked over his shoulder to see that Emma had made no attempt to move. Will placed his head against the wooden frame taking a breath to push past the unwritten rule that men did not broach these matters.

"Do you…need gloves? I can go get some."

Emma's lack of response only caused his embarrassment to increase until he finally bit the bullet and turned to look at her surprised to find she was staring directly at him with tears in her eyes. Comprehension slammed into him when he remembered that her mother years ago had a complete hysterectomy. _Damnit._

"…there's nothing here…is there?"

Her subtle nod had him once again sitting at her side attempting to lighten the heavily freighted subject matter with comments that he wouldn't mind catching a glimpse of a one-horse town. Playing the fool although this time not entirely so he asked what the phrase meant relieved when Emma smiled and said something about businesses with one hitching post. _I have no idea what that means._

"It would be like a Wal-mart in a town so small it only required ten parking spots."

They both snorted at her comment as he gathered her clothes helping her to stand. When she groaned miserably and pressed her forehead into his chest Will deduced that this was officially on par for incredibly awkward moments in his life. He could recall enough from his experiences with Terri to know why Emma was now immobile against him.

* * *

The drive into town was filled with more of the as Emma shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to him while he was reduced to playing "name that crop" in an effort to not feel so out of place. It was Emma who got them both to relax when she asked what the piece of farm equipment they were currently coasting behind at twenty miles per hour was. Apparently his answer of a green tractor didn't work when it was a combine. At the first opportunity he had Will had zipped around the road hog laughing when Emma raised her index finger and nodded slightly to the man inside. He stared open-mouthed when the man not only waved back but produced a genuine smile. Emma told him to get use to the waving and proceeded to make him practice what she called the "one-fingered farmer wave," with farmer being the only word that distinguished it from the one fingered wave he was familiar with.

When they encountered a green sign with a name that boasted the town they were entering was home to 154 people Will asked how it had ever even gotten on the map amending that since he hadn't checked a map he wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't listed in the interest of saving ink.

"The unincorporated town twenty miles away that has a population of seven is listed."

Will glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "What could a town of seven possibly have? Sounds to me like a family that infuriated their last neighbor."

Emma's response that Lindy, Virginia consisted of a very small residential area, a church and bar that were just across the street from each other had him seriously asking if she was kidding.

Angling the van into a stall in front of a grocery store that a sign that in its prime would have been a vivid red informed him he had located the bustling supermarket of Jim's Food Town. This place didn't even have set parking spots and Will resolved to check a map for Lindy believing Emma but wanting to see it for himself.

Letting the hood support his weight he waited while Emma ran into the store contemplating the storybook small town that seemed to exist in its own time-zone. He had never been in a town that had a main street that was actually called Main Street with a business district that consisted of four blocks on brick-paved roads. He also kept an eye on the five-way intersection that had confused the hell out of him hoping that enough cars would approach it at once so he could see how it worked. Emma's explanation had been too punctuated with giggles for him to catch anything.

Will practiced his head nod complete with sincere smile when a man who looked to be older than him but in surprisingly good shape walked past him headed for the door Emma had entered minutes before. Will was taken off guard when the black curly-haired man stopped and shook his hand saying that he must be from out of town because he'd never seen him around before. His eyes were bright and inviting and his smile was infectious leading Will easily into commenting that he was here visiting with his girlfriend.

"Good to know, hope to see you around. I'm Marshall Gates by the way but everyone around here calls me Gates, nicknamed coined by some kids I used to work with that just stuck." Even though his voice still held the same captivating tenor Will's blood had run cold when he had realized who he was talking with and worse that the man had drawn him in within such a short span of time. _I've known him for all of five seconds and I feel like we are old friends. She's known him for years... _

"Well, I must be going. Wife saddled me with the grocery list." Will squeaked a response and froze as Emma seemingly in slow-motion held the door open too preoccupied with putting money away to notice who was walking through.

"Emma Pillsbury is that really you!" Will tensed when Emma's face broke out into a radiant smile as she threw her arms around the other mans' neck hugging him tightly with a closeness Will did not like one bit saying how great it was to see him after so many years.

Will took a step forward when Gates banished any second guesses he had about his nature with one comment.

"Didn't I always tell you that you would grow up to be a gorgeous young lady? You're just as beautiful now as you were all those years go Ems." A level of appreciation dripped from his honey-coated words that left Will clenching his jaw.

All of his attempts to slyly insert his opinion that they should all go somewhere together had been shot down by Emma who was so wrapped up in seeing her childhood mentor again that the email exchange seemed to have permanently escaped her mind.

Following Emma's directions to a park on the outskirts of the town Will put his foot down, sort of.

"Take your phone and make sure to leave it on silent. Do not take it out of your purse."

"Will stop being paranoid. You are getting yourself all worked up over-"he cut her off in no mood to debate the matter.

"Emma, take your phone, put it on silent and don't let him know you have it," speaking to her as though she were a student that was well past pushing their luck.

Parking a few feet away from what Will noticed uncomfortably was the only one other car in the area he gritted his teeth as Emma excitedly told him that she would see him in a couple hours jumping out of the car to join the man Will wanted to chemically castrate at a picnic table a few yards away. Briefly he entertained the idea of just sitting here until Emma shot him a glare that meant she would soon be marching over if he didn't move. Reluctantly he put the van in reverse and left Emma in a situation that to him seemed all around bad the list of groceries she had given him that her father had forgotten held captive in a tightly clenched fist.

* * *

**Gates' POV**

As soon as he figured out the pleasant out-of-towner he had bumped into outside the grocery store was connected with Emma he hated him. Who the hell did he think he was taking the woman he had waited years for without his permission? Emma really had affected him more than anyone he had ever worked with during his stint at the church and his emails with her had been intentional, an attempt to directly divulge his feelings while hiding them in just enough silly humor to offset the seriousness. It was obvious that Will was trying to thwart his and Emma's chance at a private reunion and for that his hatred had slid quite effortlessly into loathing. This man was not going to stand in the middle of his only chance at possibly getting the woman that although physically absent from his life for years had never really left.

His arms around her holding her tight to his body outside the store felt as breathlessly amazing as it had all those years ago in his office and he had been unable to resist telling her how beautiful she still was something that in retrospect he wished he wouldn't have commented on because Will had looked less than pleased. Emma's convincing him to allow them to meet while he went back to the store had buoyed his spirits. That right there was proof of the level of trust Will placed in her. He could use that trust to his advantage.

Sitting across from her now was heaven brightened exponentially when he heard the sound of the van's engine growing fainter. _God she's just as quirky and radiant as I remember but she does look far to skinny for someone her height. I wonder what's going on there._

He worked at putting Emma at ease inquiring about her job probing for details subtly steering the conversation away from topics that included Glee club and Spanish as soon as it became apparent they were associated with Will.

Gradually he brought up their time together when she was younger mentioning how proud he still was of her for overcoming her insecurities and allowing him the honor of bringing her out of her box while taking note of the insecurities she still possessed.

Her Mysophobia was still present and debilitating by the sound of it as she recounted an incident with a slushy which unfortunately included the man who infused himself into every crevice like a ghost keeping her panic at bay.

She was visibly relaxed around him her eyes showing nothing but the enamored quality they had always held when she talked with him. He gradually became more hands on brushing his fingers along her arm as he commented that her time in Ohio had robbed her of her Virginia tan casually shifting so his leg was against hers pleased when she never moved.

Aware of the Will-imposed time restraint he pushed his luck a little faster than he had originally intended leaning forward to brush strands of hair the wind so kindly gave him the excuse to do making the action innocent in nature instead of revealing his true motive of simply wanting to touch her skin. It also provided him the opportunity for the tactic he had been wondering how to pull off.

Moving around the table to sit beside her under the guise of not being able to hear her over the wind was exhilarating and he placed his hand on her knee as he excitedly asked if she remembered their "trip" to South Carolina inwardly praying she didn't consider the scenes that had unfolding inappropriate.

"I just stumbled across those at mom's house. I printed them a long time ago because that had meant so much to me back then. I didn't remember much about them but we were rather forward weren't we. What was going on there Gates? Why did you let that continue as far as it did?"

That was not the answer he had been hoping for and he scrambled for a fabricated response that would sound just sincere enough to let him squeak by.

"It was harmless fun but I have to admit I did have a motive. I wanted to convince you that you were, "he considered his next words, "desirable, that one day a man would be lucky to have you, nothing more I assure you."

"That's a relief, Will wasn't too happy when he stumbled across them." She was laughing which was good the fact that Will once again factored himself into the equation was something he could have done without.

"I hope you told him it was all innocent banter. I would hate it if he thought that I was taking advantage of you."

Gates sighed when Emma admitted that her boyfriend was still leery but that but that she was working on convincing him it was just what he had told her. Given the trust he had witnessed earlier she would succeed. Discreetly glancing at the watch he had worn on purpose because it was the one she would remember he noticed to his dismay that they were quickly running out of time and that subsequently he was rapidly losing his chance.

"Emma… I can't' lie to you. I did have feelings for you when I wrote those emails and to be honest I still have them. Stephanie and I divorced over eight years ago."

He held his breath as he studied her reaction both in the hope no one had gotten to her first to mention he was still married as well as to see how she responded to his confession coupled with his hand slowly sliding up her thigh.

She did look down at his hand but never removed it quietly admitting that he had been the most important person in her life and in many regards still was the main influence behind many things she still did.

"I've never told anyone but I had a crush on you too, "she blushed.

Gates seized the moment turning to face her straddling the bench as he placed his other hand on the hip farthest from him giving her his best smile while pretending to be shocked parroting the words he had uttered in confidentiality that if he had been younger he would have been all over her running one hand up her torso at the sight of her smile. She still wasn't making any moves to stop him and there was no doubt in his mind that somewhere that spark still existed within her.

"Please don't think I'm overstepping my bounds but there's something I've waited years for the chance to do and I won't let it slip away, not again."

Not allotting her the chance to formulate a question he cupped the back of her head crashing his lips against hers disheartened with she stiffened against him pushing his tongue into her mouth none the less. He trailed a hand further up her side purposefully stopping to linger on the edge of one breast placing his other hand on her lower back to prevent her from pulling away. Stopping for air he murmured for her to give in stating that he would never hurt her regretting that if she didn't respond he might have to resort to force. He never noticed her hand straying behind her delving into her purse too preoccupied with the welcomed sensation of her kissing him back to care about anything else. Carefully he moved his hand to the front of her breast squeezing it gently groaning softly when her tongue met his.

"I've wanted to touch you for so long baby, your skin is so soft, so delicate. I want to feel you against me."

His other hand found its way to the hem of her shirt pushing it up as he reveled in the feel of her skin. When he felt her ribs he knew she was too skinny and he pounced on what would be her greatest weakness.

"This doesn't bother me you know, feeling your ribs, not the way it probably does him. He's a good actor you would never know if he found your body disgusting. I could never think that about you, your body is perfect, always has been."

He slipped one hand under her bra kneading her breast offended when she wrenched away clearly intent on bolting.

"Please stop, don't do this, please." She was frightened, he never wanted that but it was unavoidable now.

Grabbing her by the shoulders he forced her to stand backing her into the tree that was only a few feet away using it to hold her in place as he pressed himself against her.

"See what you do to me Emma, can you feel how badly I want you?"

Emma ground out a forceful command for him to get off of her saying that she wouldn't tell anyone if he stopped. When he rocked his pelvis against hers she started to cry weakly pushing her hands against her chest in a futile attempt to force him backwards.

"Relax sweetheart, look my car is right over there…" he trailed off as her eyes widened feeling a slight pang of remorse at the fear he was causing this beautiful woman against him.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The moment Gates admitted his feelings for her Emma started to play along hoping it would buy her time as his mouth connected with hers. She wanted to retch when she kissed him back fumbling through her purse brushing her thumb across the keypad scared to death it wouldn't be the right number.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will reacted within seconds when he heard his phone ring a cold fear he had never felt before coursing through him as he left a confused cashier asking if he wanted his change when he raced out the door attempting to quiet his breathing because he knew there was only one reason Emma would be calling barely stopping the string of curse words that might give him away as he tore down the road in the direction of the woman he loved. He wanted to call the police but there was no way he was going to hang up.

"Please don't think I'm overstepping my bounds but there's something I've waited years for the chance to do and I won't let it slip away, not again."

That voice was far too sweet with a clear cut meaning that left Will ready to blanche as he ignored every red light he encountered wishing a cop would find him just so he could lead them to Emma.

Will hearing a groan that definitely did not belong to Emma followed by words that ignited such anger and rage within him left him vowing that he was going to seriously injure Marshall Gates.

Wrenching the wheel as hard as he could Will gunned it into the park swearing when he saw Emma pushed up against a tree her hands on Gates' chest unsuccessfully attempting to push him off of her. He slammed on the breaks leaving the vehicle in park as he raced toward them his feet silent on the grass so he would take the man off guard using every last bit of his control to not yell at him to get the hell away from her.

Launching himself at Gates Will tackled him to the ground hoping he didn't hurt Emma in the process because there was no way he could he could get him down without taking her along with them. He yelled for Emma to call the police as he allowed the rage that had been building to burst free.

"You goddamn son of a bitch!"

Will spat out the words holding the man on his back by the collar of his shirt raising his body just enough that he could crash a knee into his chest glad the same friend who had taught him a few military holds had also shown him how to effectively crack a couple ribs with a well- placed blow to the chest.

Gates winced beneath him and Will forced him to his feet shoving him into the same tree he had been holding Emma against stepping back to punch him in the jaw with as much force as he could muster his voice dark as he hissed that he was going to pay for what he did jamming his knee into Gates' crotch twice before forceful hands pulled him away telling him to settle as Will fought violently against whoever was keeping him from finishing what he started. When he finally let go of some of his anger somewhere in his mind it registered that more time must have passed than he thought or the deputy had been nearby because he hadn't been expecting such a quick response. He had never wanted to hurt someone so much in his life.

In the end the police had manhandled a protesting, doubled-over Gates into the back of a police cruiser Will smirked when his cracked into the top of the vehicle. Both he and Emma gave their statements Will reluctantly walking out of hearing range while Emma talked hurriedly to the man in uniform that judging by the hug he wrapped her in had known her for quite some time. He watched anxiously as she shifted nervously all but running over to him when she was finished latching onto his shirt as though her life depended on it as he held her close apologizing over and over for ever leaving her.

Back on the road headed towards the farm Will kept glancing over at Emma who hadn't spoken a word since they had gotten in the van. She had poked her way through the deli sandwich he stopped by a gas station to purchase and for that he was relieved even though it did take her a few mile markers to finish. Judging by the tears that were slowly trailing down her cheeks as she stared at her lap he knew she wanted to talk but didn't know where to start. He didn't know either but anything was better than this.

"Emma, honey please talk to me. What happened," Will swallowed his throat dry, "what did he do?"

He hadn't expected her to start revealing details right away and as difficult as it was he forced himself to remain quiet not wanting to inadvertently cause her to stop.

"It was great in the beginning. We talked about my life, the past, the emails that he assured me where innocent and like an idiot I believed him. I believed him Will, how stupid can I be? I didn't stop him when he placed his hand on my knee. I didn't stop him when he ran his hand up my thigh. I didn't stop him when he forced his tongue into my mouth barely thinking enough to call you."

Emma abruptly halted her recount and Will only waited hoping she would continue, sickened and relieved when she did.

"I…I kissed him back, pushed my tongue into his mouth so he wouldn't notice me reaching for my phone. I kissed him back…"

The hatred in her voice killed him but again he held onto his earlier conviction to not intrude the only sign of his anger the tightening grip he had on the underside of the steering wheel.

Her words were spilling from her mouth now. She wanted this to be done with.

"He cupped my breast, held his hand against my back when I tried to pull away, told me the last thing he wanted to do was hurt me. I lost track of time until he told me…until he said he wanted to touch me. He said that feeling my ribs didn't bother him like it probably did you as he moved his hand under my bra. I asked him to stop and somehow I ended up against the tree. I couldn't push him away and I started to cry when he pressed his erection between my legs. He mentioned something about going to his car but I was too scared to catch all of it. I was so scared Will and I hate myself for not listening to you, for not being able to get away from him, for kissing him back, for being so oblivious to something so obvious."

"Don't you dare think what happened is your fault. I'm the one who left you alone with him if anyone is to blame it's me not you. This was _not _your fault Emma."

When Emma quietly asked if he found her body disgusting Will pulled off to the side of the road knowing now that he would never admit that he had avoided touching bone when he could get away with it and hating that he ever felt that way.

Wordlessly he shut the van off opening his door to walk around to the passenger side unbuckling Emma's seat belt and gathering her into his arms as soon as the door was out of his way whispering that he could never find her disgusting his heart breaking when she began to violently sob against his shoulder. He wanted to hold her but it was impossible in their current position and the back of the van was full of boxes so he gently picked her up sitting down with his back against a front tire attempting to hide his own tears failing when a small, choked sob of his own escaped his lips. They sat along the gravel road and time seemed to cease as he tangled one hand in her hair placing her head under his chin occasionally planting soft kisses in her hair between apologies that would never be enough to cover the damage he would never forgive himself for.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

As soon as they were through the front door Emma made a beeline for the bathroom insisting that Will allow her to take a shower unable to blame him when he scoured the bathroom for anything sharp, making her promise to leave the door open in case she changed her mind.

Emma stripped, throwing her clothes in a waste basket beside the toilet fully intent on burning them in the rusted barrel a fair distance away from the house as she violently twisted the facets stepping inside before the water had a chance to warm slowly inching the knob labeled with a worn, blue C until it was barely on. Her skin was crawling with the feeling of his touch and she didn't deserve to be comfortable scrubbing furiously at her skin until she could feel it becoming raw.

A gasp escaped her when the water burned against her now sensitive body and she hoped Will didn't hear. She didn't deserve his comfort either not when she had kissed Gates back. She stopped her assault standing still as she winced under the extreme temperature allowing it to wash away the memory of his hands upon her skin.

The hot spray turned warm and she didn't have to peek over her shoulder to know it was Will's doing. Light flooded into her small sanctuary as the dark, almost red obtuse curtain was pulled open his hand finding hers.

"No."

Will didn't force her instead she heard him step into the tub his fully clothed form pressing against her back his clothes dampening as he slowly inched her forward with his arms barely touching her waist so that she was no longer under the water as he took the brunt starting to shiver slightly as the hot water started to run out. She still resisted his halted requests for her to get out as his shivers changed into trembles under the frigid spray that cascaded down his back. He never moved but when he violently shuddered against her Emma couldn't subject him to something he didn't deserve any longer no matter how much she so desperately didn't want to leave.

She protested as he wrapped her in numerous towels careful to avoid irritating her inflamed skin. She didn't want him taking care of her not when he was still shivering due to her insensitivity. When she told him that he forcefully replied that it wasn't her fault his voice conveying that the cold shower wasn't the only thing he was referring to.

He led her upstairs wrapped in a fresh set of dry towels one hand on the small of her back while the other carried a hair-dryer. When they reached the bed he politely asked her to sit down plugging the cord into a nearby outlet moving the object out of her reach as he turned it on every once in a while dropping his hand beneath the jet of air to make sure it wasn't too hot probably aware that she wouldn't tell him if it was. Emma didn't have the energy to protest her body growing weary as she gave in to the comfort of Will being Will.

Her eyelids were half-closed when the sudden absence of warmth jolted her out of the half-sleep she had been sliding into. She hadn't realized he had neglected to change out of his soaked clothes until she heard him unzipping his jeans. Vaguely she registered the sound of a towel against skin followed by the snap of an elastic band. When he maneuvered her under the covers and slipped in behind her he whispered a soft sorry when she involuntarily shuddered against his cold chest turning to face him seeking as much contact as she could her body heat slowly warming his as she drank in the comfort of his strong embrace drifting off into a deep sleep she hadn't expected to be able to achieve dimly aware of one of Will's hands coming to rest on her ribcage as he whispered that he loved her.

* * *

**Will's POV**

He was too wired to fall asleep worried when he felt Emma stir that she was having a nightmare a scenario he had already accepted as something that would happen at some point. She softly asked him if they could keep the day's events between them and he begrudgingly consented only after she promised that if she thought it was becoming too much to handle on her own that she would tell Dan. A few minutes later she had calmly asked if Will would go with her if it came to that and with a tender kiss to her forehead he said that he had already decided he wouldn't let her go alone.

"Will?" her tone sounded normal like the day hadn't had any defining characteristics setting it apart from the rest of their time here which to him was unsettling.

"Hmm?"

"Can we go for a walk?" she still sounded normal.

Will considered his options momentarily preferring they stay right where they were but her voice had been insistent implying that if he didn't accompany her she would go anyways. They dressed quietly himself in jeans and a t-shirt while Emma drowned in another one of his shirts and a baggy pair of sweatpants.

Half-way down the staircase she became playful giggling as she hooked her fingers into his belt loops pulling him backwards to place a kiss on the back of his neck. Even though his mind against his permission categorized this as a coping mechanism he went along with it turning around to face her twisting his lips into what he hoped was a wicked grin as he poked her stomach intoning that he still owed her for putting syrup in his hair. The fact that his comment had been met with widened eyes lightened his mood somewhat showing that she had forgotten about his little promise.

The first thing Will heard as he stepped outside was the neighing of a horse answered by that of another.

"What was that? Where did they come from?"

"Frogs, they sound eerily similar to a horse and as near as we can figure they got into some radioactive substance somewhere." Emma replied flippantly.

Will's smile was genuine at her slip into a phrasing he had equated with her father absolutely adorable coming from her mouth.

"You young lady are lying. I know those are horses now answer my second question or you'll regret it."

"What part of radioactive frogs did you not understand and honestly we don't know." She was asking for his threat.

Will stepped closer to her his face inches from hers, "You're maddeningly obstinate sometimes Ms. Pillsbury," he placed his lips against her ear whispering a suggestively playful, "run."

She leapt away laughing whole-heartedly as she took off on a full run leaving him laughing in response as he sped after her deciding for the moment to lose himself in a game he hoped was putting her at ease.

Picking himself up out of the dirt he had lost his footing in he finally cornered her in the cab of a large blue tractor grinning at her flat-out forfeit of their impromptu game of tag. He carefully climbed the grated steps for the first time getting a glimpse of the inside of a piece of equipment he had seen more of out here than in his entire life. She was sitting in a seat that was two sizes too big looking triumphant as he brought his face well into her personal space abruptly halting before his lips met hers.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?"

He wasn't going to be the cause of her reliving something neither of them was ready to deal with just yet. Taking her small nod as permission Will tentatively brought his mouth to hers cautiously depositing a quick peck.

"What was that?"Amusement flooded her words.

"If you don't know than I think we need to have a sex 101 crash course." _Did I really just say that? What a stunningly brilliant comment when she's nervous enough about being a virgin._

"That wasn't a kiss. Do it proper or not all Mr. Schuester, "Emma drawled his name in a pronounced accent that instead of sounding overdone came off as natural, cuter than it had the right to be.

Will chuckled at her use of his formal, usually reserved for school title meeting her lips again still holding back as he began to move his mouth against hers going along when she opened her mouth yet waiting for her to make the next move. She never did slide her tongue into his mouth which bothered him somewhat because he was certain she normally would have.

She yanked him out off the tractor proclaiming that although loud noises made her nervous she would make an exception for him because she wanted to show him something. Will was confused then shocked when Emma straddled a four-wheeler that was covered in dust patting the seat behind her with an excited grin. Ordering him to hold onto her waist she mentioned he should get used to the gesture as he would be doing a lot of it when they were riding something other than a four-wheeler. _I can handle that._

"Are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"Dad taught me and I only crashed once for your information." That revelation didn't exactly put him Will at ease and he tightened his grip.

When they shot forward Emma's laughter only increased when he cursed against her neck not expecting the take off to propel him backwards. Emma, to her credit, was quite good at this the only time he got nervous was when she made sharp turns he was beginning to think she was doing on purpose.

They stopped just outside a rusted gate that Will wondered if Emma would let him stay behind when he noticed the two horses grazing on the other side. She drug him off the four-wheeler clicking her tongue and calling out to the animals in sweet, low tones taking Will's hand and placing it between the eyes of a horse she called General Lee and slowly sliding it down smirking when he tried to halt her movement as she told him he would be fine when his fingers brushed against a nose that was velvety soft peppered with long hairs.

"General Lee needs to shave."

"General Lee is going to be the one you ride. I suggest you refrain from insulting him" Emma giggled

"Very distinguished sir…wait the horse I'm going to be riding…aren't you going to be riding with me?"

She laughed at the fear he hadn't attempted to hide telling him that she would ride with him for a while to show him the ropes. She never backed down despite his adamant declarations that he was perfectly fine not being on a horse by himself.

Emma kept moving his hand around the horses' head molding hers to his as he had him cup the animals' cheek then move over to brush along the side of his neck. The second her hand left his he backed away only to find a small pile of grass in his palm. Will balked as she assured him he would be fine raising his hand to General Lee's mouth. He jumped when the horse took his fingers into his mouth grimacing when he felt teeth. Tenderly General Lee grabbed the grass out of his hand never once biting down and Will let out a breath he hadn't remembered trapping in his throat when Emma lowered his intact hand back to his side.

They returned the four-wheeler back to its rightful place Will having declined her offer for him to drive saying that he much rather preferred the excuse to hold her rewarded with a bashful smile buried within a nervous one.

Walking hand in hand down the gravel lane Emma withdrew stepping in front of him placing a hand against his chest in the same manner she had used at the dog show.

"Thank you for today for stopping me from weighing myself, for taking me into town, for the flour moment…for Gates."

Will stared into her eyes as he told her not to thank him that he would do anything for her bypassing the sorry he wanted to add to the growing pile that if physically present would probably be up to his chin. Cautiously he asked why she was so nonchalant about what had happened today swallowing his fear that he would shatter her current mood.

"You're keeping it at bay because I know I'm safe with you."

Her answer was sincere, comforting and unsettling as he wondered if that meant it would crash into her if he wasn't around. He produced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he murmured a quiet okay.

"Will have you ever been to a county fair because I saw this ad on the bulletin board for tomorrow and well I haven't gone to one in years always thinking they were too dirty. I always wanted to have that sappy, romantic night at the fair with the one I love. I want to go on rides that I have avoided since I was seven and I want to walk through a cattle barn without squeezing my eyes closed and hyperventilating. I want to show you everything I've secretly missed for so long and I want to laugh at your expression when you see just how crazy we are. We have some pretty odd forms of entertainment."

Listening to her his initial inclination was to back her out of the idea figuring she had been through enough but as she went on he realized just how important sharing this was to her.

"I would love to go to the fair with you and we can do all those things Em, every last one and I will right there supportive, sappy and romantic."

"Dressed up?" Emma inquired.

Will squinted in mock consideration, "only for you."

That night in bed as Will rested quietly beside Emma reliving the events that had caused the day to spiral so horribly out of control clamping down on his thoughts when they strayed to things that could have happened had he not gotten to Emma when he did. Burying his nose in her hair he inhaled strawberries his own personal safety blanket of sorts matching his breathing with hers as he gave in to the drowsiness that had been interrupting his musings snatching scenarios before they were completely formed.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

She hadn't been lying when she told Will that he was keeping her from dwelling on the incident that seemed the ultimate betrayal from a man she had spent so much time with, learned so much about life from. Emma would never tell anyone, least of all Will, that even through everything Gates had put her through she still couldn't shake the respect he had instilled in her. It was irrational, she should be infuriated but she simply could not direct such feelings at Gates not after everything he had helped her to overcome, not when she still relied on his advice to push her through stressful days.

Honestly the way she had acted around Will tonight didn't feel detached like it had in previous times. It felt genuine and tomorrow couldn't get here fast enough. The boxes were loaded meaning she had the entire day to spend with Will teaching him to ride and exposing him to a county fair. Knots still formed in her stomach about the latter but Will would help her and she wanted to prove that she was capable of undertaking fears on her own. Emma smiled against him as she picked out the craziest events to subject him to inserting a few of the more serious ones she had always wanted to be a part of like the late-night country dance in the beer garden she had never had anyone to go with.

The one thing that really was getting to her was Gates' comment about her ribs, about how Will was a good actor and she might not be able to tell if her body bothered him. His assurances had sounded so sincere but the fear had already been planted. Gates had told her that he didn't mind feeling her ribs but if Will could lie so could he and as Emma dozed off she wondered if being too skinny among other advantages the voice commonly referenced would ward off any other unwanted encounters when Will wasn't around to protect her.

* * *

A/N: Before I get flammed for how Emma was acting at the end of this chapter keep in mind that this has been her default behavior so to speak on many occasions and she is truthful when she mentions that this time it was different. The Gates issue will be brought up again and don't worry I haven't forgotten about the ones either.

Emma's reaction to getting her period is a serious issue for many Anorexics and many do not handle it well the first couple times. Others on the other hand embrace it as an active step in their recovery.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Okay thank a wintery day, the fact that I'm on a week-long break from classes and ideas for this chapter that refused to leave me alone until I typed them out and yes I really did have that conversation with a professor, she's the best.

**

* * *

****Chapter Twenty-Three**

**Emma's POV**

Emma sat at the edge of the bed dressed for the day contemplating ways to wake the curly-haired man that was currently nothing more than an oblong lump underneath a mound of blankets. Her original intent was to play nice but as soon as devious Option Number One popped into existence nice was chased away by a wicked grin.

Ignoring how cliché this was Emma bounded up the stairs intent on getting to Will before the ice cube that rested in her palm melted completely. She knew from childhood stories that this was one of Will's most hated ways to be woken up in the mornings a byproduct of his mother doing it one too many times. She also knew that for the same reason Will, in general, all around disliked the feeling of ice against his skin. Emma sauntered across the room sliding her hand under the edge of the sheet that resided at the bottom of the pile not sure if she was going to find his chest or his back. _Wakey, wakey Will._

Will stiffened the instant the frozen water connected with his skin. Emma detected a muffled, rather colorful four-letter word before a warm hand clamped down on her wrist. _Chest then._

"Not nice, not nice at all," Will called out not moving from his little nest and not letting go of her hand that was now palm down against the mattress burning as what remained of the ice cube returned to its liquid state.

Emma gritted her teeth at the sensation, "Come on sleepyhead, rise and shine."

"Ha! When you are probably sitting there with an entire bucket of ice! I don't think so. Nope, not after that little stunt and you can't make me," he teased.

_Wanna bet?_

He twisted himself tighter into the covers saying that he would forgive her if she joined him.

_Tempting, but no._

Emma roved her eyes around the room growing frustrated when the contents proved to be too sparse to be of any use. She wasn't sure what she was looking for as she stepped into the hall biting her lip as she rotated in place watching for promising possibilities. _Nothing. Damn._

Will had not budged true to his word. Emma stood next to the bed her earlier grin returning to her face as she took four even steps backward. She pushed off with her right foot in an action reminiscent of a time when she had been afraid monsters were lurking under her bed.

It didn't take much precision to land unceremoniously on her target a choked out "oomph" trailed by a gush of air audible beneath her.

"Gonna take more than that," Will sang the last word starting on a high note then sliding down a step.

Crossing her arms over her chest Emma shifted so that she was straddling him although what part she was straddling was hidden under multiple layers of fabric. She rotated her hips earning a throaty groan from the man underneath her.

"I didn't know blankets could talk, let alone sound so…I'll make it worth your while if you get out of bed I promise…William."

Emma pressed downwards as she drew out his name certain she had him now. It didn't escape her notice that his voice dropped a level as he informed her that he would make it worth her while if she stopped playing around adding that they could play around together moving in a manner that told Emma she was straddling him just above his hips. _Again, tempting, again, no._

She crawled off of him smirking at his protest.

Back in her earlier perch on the corner of the bed she tossed around various ideas settling on one she hoped she was strong enough to pull off. Steadying herself with one hand splayed along the wall she slowly got to her feet stepping over Will to sit with her back against the cool surface her knees drawn up to her chest, her feet flat against some unknown part of his body.

"What are you doing?" The suspicion that resided in his inquiry only added to the moment.

_Getting you out of bed…I hope._

Straightening her legs with her hands braced against the wall for leverage she pushed forward with all her might grinning triumphantly when both Will and blankets disappeared from her view with a loud thud and another muffled four-lettered word.

Peering down at him Emma frowned when he didn't crawl out as she had expected him to. Secretly she was elated he was being so stubborn it meant he was purposefully encouraging her antics which meant he was enjoying this just as much as she was.

Climbing off the bed she stretched her body out along his shoving one arm beneath what she assumed was his shoulder and wrapping the other around his back throwing one leg over both of his.

"I can assure that this position would be infinitely more satisfying if you were in here with me." Will stated in a tone that had probably contained a suggestive undercurrent before it was swallowed by the barrier of blankets.

"What makes you think I want to be in there with you?"

Will somehow managed to rock his hips against hers and she didn't have a chance to swallow her betrayal.

"That," he replied smugly.

Emma gripped him tightly surprising herself when she was able to heave him over her body continuing to roll him across the floor unraveling him picturing his lopsided grin as sparks of static electricity littered the quilt he rested upon.

"That was quite the feat," he murmured as he pulled her in for a kiss, "but I can't help but notice that even without my blankets I can't see which means it's way too early for me to be awake."

"There's no shortage of ice if you want to go that route."

Emma laughed as Will grumbled something about her being a devilish woman as he searched around in the dark for clothes squeezing his eyes shut tightly when Emma flipped the light on.

"What did you do that-," he stared at her hand, "really?"

"Really."

Knowing Will would give in to her request even if he did complain the rest of the day Emma went downstairs using the coffeemaker her dad seemed to live and die by for the first time in her life figuring it was the least she could do for dragging a guy who detested mornings with a passion out of bed before the sun had risen.

Hands came to rest on her hips and a soft voice scolded her for not having his caffeine fix ready by now.

"Ice."

The voice varied its approach. "Thanks, smells wonderful…not as good as you though"

"Flattery is rendered useless when it's only purpose is to stave off an ice bath."

"Right, so that means I can admit the coffee smells better because you are the reason I'm up before dawn. Caffeine at least doesn't make me do things I don't want to," he was smirking against her neck.

Emma turned around playfully pushing him backwards to run her eyes up and down his body giggling as he shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. A black t-shirt with the words "Cowboys know how to ride," emblazoned across it hung loosely over a pair of worn jeans.

"Just so you know I didn't wear this shirt for you. I wore it hoping I could prove that what it says is true," Emma was just about to speak when he hastily added, "with a horse, not you," Will grimaced at his innuendo gone awry."See, that's proof I should still be sleeping."

"With a horse you say? As in you would do what you are implying with a horse? You know in a survey done by a famous psychologist thirteen percent of farm boys admitted they had their first sexual experience with an animal, usually a horse."

Will's mouth hung open as he gawked at her.

"How do you know that? Why do you know that? No wait, scratch both of those. Why do you think I want to know that?" Clearly what she had just told him was something he never expected to come from her mouth.

_This could be fun._

"The same survey however, showed that three-to-four percent of woman had experimented with a dog or cat," Emma pressed on fondly replaying bits of a lecture by a beloved, beyond perverted psych professor in her Human Sexuality class, "which if you want to know involves strategically placed pieces of food although I have to admit a cat would just be the purrrfect partner don't you agree although their tongue would be a little rough but hey, small price to pay when you can be certain they won't tell anyone."

The man in front of her seemed permanently stuck in a state of shock and she was enjoying the power she held over him for the moment. _Let's see…what else…perfect. Thank you Dr. Larson._

Emma had been a part of a select few students fortunate enough to be close enough with the older woman that almost anything could be said which had led to some interesting conversations to say the least.

"In class one time my professor and I were trying to outdo each other on this topic and I won by a landslide. Wanna know what I said?"

Will nodded slightly and Emma beamed at the knowledge that he, even given the subject, wanted to know just what she had done to shock a professor.

"She really liked dogs so I asked her which breed she recommended because I was looking to get one. I said I was considering a Collie because they had such a long nose or a Pug because of their flat face. Needless to say, she admitted defeat as soon as she regained the ability to talk."

Confusion was written all over Will's face.

"Oh come on Will, think about it! It's going to be ruined if I have to spell it out for you. You're a guy your mind is always supposed to be in the gutter," Emma sighed when the creases in his brow deepened. "Connect the dots, beastiality, strategically placed food, female body…parts, dogs with long noses and dogs with short ones."

His eyes widened as his jaw dropped further.

"Oh my God Emma that's disgusting! Thank you for forever tarnishing the innocent image of Lassie and any brachiocephalic breed I look at. You said that to a professor!"

Emma giggled as Will looked down at her.

"I have to admit I'm impressed, scarred for life but impressed." From the look on his face it was evident he couldn't decide which portion of that comment to express.

Emma missed dumbfounded, speechless Will.

"I'll play dirty to get what I want, if I want it bad enough."

_Hmm, not good enough._

Emma brought her hand down on Will's backside with a motion that was a little more than a playful swat forcing him to take a step towards her.

_That's better._

_

* * *

_**Will's POV**

His mind was still reeling from their conversation earlier in the morning and he really had been serious about Lassie being ruined. _All those fond memories of watching re-runs on TV, eating popcorn while the rough-coated sable Collie defied the odds to save Timmy…tainted, forever, beyond repair. _

That issue was pushed to the back burner as soon as she hit him on the butt. It wasn't a swat like she had given before it was hard enough that it had forced him to take a step to keep his balance and in two seconds flat any disgust on his part was replaced with lust. The fact that Emma had deflected numerous subtle, not so subtle and finally direct allusions to them going back to bed in the interest of time was still aggravating but he had been nothing if not persistent.

He had observed her silently keeping an eye out for any compromising situation she might inadvertently end up in or even better, a commonplace one that he could turn compromising. Opportunity had finally presented itself when she had sat down.

Up and around the table in a heartbeat he hadn't given her any warning before he spun her chair around only letting it complete two rotations before he reached out to stop it placing his hands on the arms openly leering at her. He had kept his eyes on hers as he had knelt down running his hands up from her ankles to her hips and back down again before he lowered his head to pepper kisses in a line that began just above her knee, traveled up her thigh, strayed a little to the right to cover a breast with a course correction that ended with his mouth just below her ear. Will's hopes had soared when she moaned and plummeted when he felt the gentle pressure of Emma's knee against his stomach followed by a firm command for him to get up or she wouldn't be so nice about making him stop. Reluctantly he obeyed mentally adding another thing to a list that was far more enjoyable then the one he kept at the beginning of their relationship.

The list of things Emma was going to regret was growing longer by the day and Will couldn't wait to get her back for each one, bonus points if she wasn't expecting it. The moment that ice had burned its way into a dream he wished he could remember he knew that today was going to be the day she would pay for the syrup. The only snag being that he was still trying to figure how to accomplish that so just like this morning he laid in wait surveying his surroundings like some sort of predator waiting for the prey that was bound to show up except that his prey was already within sight. He was just watching for ways to capture her.

At the moment however, he had larger issues on his plate in particular a hoofed one that was looming ever closer and Will resumed his mission which in truth he had aborted after his first attempt but he was enjoying the banter.

"Emma wh-"

She sighed and turned to face him, "Will for the last time you are not going to get bitten or trampled."

He had been fabricating reasons as to why learning to ride a horse was a very bad idea for the last twenty minutes and so far nothing had worked.

"Okay, well what if I get flung off and break my leg? I wouldn't be able to help the kids with sectionals choreography."

Emma was walking away from him again calling out that he was not going to break his leg because General Lee was one step away from the glue factory as it was. _Glue factory?_

"What does that mean?"

"It means I could smack him on the rump as hard as I can and he would break into a plodding walk." There was nothing behind that tone except a simple explanation but he could work with that.

Will raised an eyebrow at Emma's backside. _There are so many things I can do with that sentence._

"How about we omit the horse and you smack me on the rump as hard as you can?

He grinned when Emma stopped and turned to face him with her hands on her hips a posture that she really needed to adopt more often because it was irresistible.

"You're not getting out of this." She was still serious.

_That's not the response I was looking for._

"What if I promise to do something far more exciting than break into a plodding walk?"

"Will," Emma drawled his name in a thick southern accent which left him slightly hopeful about his suggestion, "you are going to learn how to ride, it will be fun."

"My shirt declares that I already know how. If you don't believe me I would be more than happy to show you."

_Crap, think before you speak, not that difficult of a concept._

Emma only snorted and continued on her path to the gate Will remembered from last night. For the second time he admitted defeat when she asked if that meant he wanted to go solo without the benefit of her instruction because she would let him stating it would be a waste of time to teach someone who already proclaimed they knew what they were doing.

* * *

Will eyed the white and grey speckled horse that was about ten feet away through the gate he refused to go through as it ran circles around Emma. Galloped she had corrected although it looked like running to him. _He doesn't appear to be one step away from a glue factory. _

This was the first time he had ever wanted to write a note of thanks to Emma's OCD. General Lee was now standing calmly next to Emma immobile except for the occasional swish of his tail as she meticulously straightened and re-straightened a blanket over his back. Will imagined walking over and accidently knocking it off into the dirt but that scenario would require him to actually approach the horse and he was perfectly fine where he was. _Mr. Ed never looked this intimidating. _

"Hey get in here I can't lift the saddle."

He still felt bad about that. Abandoning the role of being a gentleman he had watched Emma place the saddle on a piece of tarp and inch by inch drag it to the horse.

Will shifted nervously, "I thought you did this all the time growing up?"

"Yeah,well, I was stronger then." Emma's voice was labored.

That comment brought reality crashing into him. There was only one explanation behind her being stronger as a child than as a grown woman.

Very slowly Will untwisted the bailing wire that was holding the gate closed half-expecting it to crumble in his hands. It was just as rusted as the gate. A loud cringe-worthy groan rang through the air as he grabbed a hold of a bar and backed up a few steps. He closed it but left the bailing wire untied via Emma's instructions and tentatively made his way over to the woman who seemed perfectly at ease next to the animal that was taller than her.

The worn, yet recently disinfected saddle was heavier than he expected and he stumbled forward before regaining his balance cautiously placing it over General Lee's back prepared to bolt if the horse did the same. He only twitched an ear in Will's direction.

Will stood motionless as Emma made a fist and swatted the side of the horses' stomach harder than he would ever dream of doing.

"…um…what are you doing?"

He doubled over when her fist came into contact with his stomach causing a whoosh of air to be propelled from his mouth.

"That." She replied with the same smug tone he had infused into the word in the bedroom.

"I wasn't," Will stopped to take in a gulp of air, "asking for a demonstration."

"He has a habit of holding his breath when you cinch the saddle. If you don't get him to exhale it will be too loose and in a very short amount of time you will be sliding over his side." He could hear the barely contained giggle behind her words.

"Maybe you should do it again…to him, not me."

Studying how Emma mounted the horse and actually doing it were two very unrealistically different things. In the end Emma had led General Lee over to a fence ordering him to climb up and swing his leg over the horses' back. She had of course brought to his attention that this was a tact usually reserved for children who were too short not six-foot tall men in their thirties. _This is going to be brought up at every family function. I know it._

His first thought was how odd it felt to have so much muscle underneath him. His second thought was that he would have been perfectly fine just sitting there as he grabbed onto Emma's waist unaware that the tongue-click she just produced translated into "start walking." Will struggled to find a comfortable position as he slowly rocked from side to side with the horses' movement. Emma led them in wide circles pointing out little things here and there like how to make him to turn left or right. The most important one to Will was how to get him to stop. He pressed his thighs into Bugs' sides when Emma told him to, at the moment he was doing every little thing she said. _Okay this isn't so bad. It's the perfect excuse to hold on to her. _

"Scoot up so you're against me and tighten your grip." Her quiet command had him ignoring the hint of amusement in her voice.

_With pleasure._

Will swore into the back of Emma's neck much like he had on the four-wheeler when General Lee lurched forward. He didn't know the technical term but this was definitely no longer a plodding walk and he grimaced.

"Trot," Emma supplied, "notorious for not being very easy on the body, watch me, move and up down with his motions. I won't keep him here long, just wanted to show you."

"I think," his voice caught as he moved down when he should have gone up, "you just wanted to cause me unnecessary pain."

"Am I that transparent?"

It took him a long time to figure out how to mimic Emma but the jarring sensation that resulted when he didn't had him trying pretty damn hard. She kicked her heels into General Lee's stomach again and Will instinctively gripped Emma tighter. Past experience can be a very effective teacher in some situations.

This was more comfortable than before but it was bordering on too fast for his comfort. After a few minutes Emma slowed back down to a walk commenting that it had been well over an hour and Will should probably take a break. He had actually started to relax beginning to see why so many people loved to ride horses. It was liberating even if he wasn't running through a pasture like he so often saw in movies.

General Lee had come to a halt and Will leaned his forehead against Emma's shoulder breathing in the scent of her shampoo as a few strands of hair tickled his nose.

"Hey that's not fair I was just getting the hang of this."

"You're going to be sore enough as it is you're using muscles you normally don't." _Yeah right._

"I'm a dancer there aren't any muscles I don't use."

Emma moved forward so she could turn and face him bringing her lips to his as she kissed him slowly murmuring that for someone who claimed he knew how to ride he sure did require a lot of assistance.

Will smiled against her mouth, "I thought you had caught on by now that I wasn't referring to horses."

She said nothing swinging her leg over as he moved back certain she was going to kick him. As soon as both of her feet were on the ground she turned and walked away which was when Will realized she had stopped the horse in the middle of the pen.

"Okay, hey, this isn't fair," she kept walking. _Emma..._

She was facing him now calmly saying that all he had to do was get off the horse. Will thought things were going pretty well until he miscalculated just how high up he was and fell to the ground. The laughter that met his ears had come far too quickly like she knew that was going to happen.

"You're heartless," Starting to stand up he wanted immediately to sit back down, "Holy shit…ow."

"What was that remark you made, the one about being a dancer or something?"

"Emma…shut up," she only giggled more as his initial attempt to walk normally was reduced to an awkward shuffle.

When he finally did reach her she commented that if he was that sore after two hours they should probably wait to have him try things on his own. _Thank you._

Will thought for a moment when Emma asked him if he knew what barrel racing was. He had heard of it but never had a reason to look it up. There was an excited glint in her eyes as she told him that her mom had taught her and that he might be surprised when he found out.

The only thing Emma had him help with was rolling some dirt-covered barrels that she didn't want to touch into a triangle. She had shooed him to the sidelines after that backing the jet black horse he had seen the night a ways away from the first barrel before shooting him a look that rivaled the one he had given her during his performance in "Toxic," before she kicked Bugs in the stomach snapping the reigns shouting "Hya" as the horse burst into a run.

His mouth dropped open as he fought to breathe when Emma rounded the first barrel pulling the horses' reign hard to the side to keep him turning. To him it looked like they were dangerously close to toppling over. She pounded her heels into Bugs again making a beeline for the next barrel and just when Will thought he couldn't be more amazed at the sight of his Emma riding a horse that was shimmering in the sunlight just as much as the hair flying behind her visible faintly through dust kicked up by powerful legs as she rounded the last barrel he was proven wrong. Emma repeatedly dug her heels into the animal breaking out into a full run tearing back to where they had started Bugs skidding to a halt when Emma pulled back. There was a stupid, giddy smile on his face. He could feel it. She was covered in dust her hair was tangled and she wore the most genuine, exhilarated smile he had ever seen as she trotted over to him.

"That," he paused to admire her silhouette against the backdrop of the sun, "was worth everything you have put me through this morning. I've never seen you like this and you were beautiful just now and passionate and radiant and completely confident and I don't know what else to say but there is so much that I want to."

Emma climbed down and Will didn't care that he had to step next to the animal he hadn't introduced himself to yet as he wrapped Emma in his arms murmuring that it was also kind of hot, seeing her so in control of the horse at her side.

* * *

By the time they got back to the house it was after noon. There was a note on the door much like the one that had been there when they first arrived saying that her dad and brother would be out with the neighbor who from the sound of it was not having the best of luck with his cattle staying behind the fence. At the end was a little, sloppy, smiley face next a short blurb asking Will if he was sore.

"It's her fault," he answered to no one.

"...but worth it right?" she sounded slightly timid.

"Absolutely, completely, without a doubt, worth every last ache in places I didn't know I could ache."

Pushing the door open to allow Emma to go first Will directed his mind away from his discomfort and onto the prospect of what to fix for lunch. His fingers had just closed around a jar of peanut butter when he heard the sound of oats falling into a bowl behind him. A surge of fear-laden disappointment coursed through his body as he slowly turned to face Emma finding her back instead the half-empty jar of peanut butter still clutched in his hand.

"Why Em?"

"It's easy, saves time…"

She wasn't turning around absent-mindedly tracing circles over the countertop in front of her. Will contained his sigh refusing to back down until he found out why she was reverting to oatmeal because the reason she had just given was complete bullshit. He had been able to overlook her sparse breakfast this morning but now that it was spilling over into the next meal and that merited some attention.

"Emma…why?"

Silence was his only answer and he counted to ten in the hope of a verbal one. Walking up behind her he deposited his jar onto the counter and carefully removed the bowl of dried oats she had been ready to place in the microwave from her hand. She didn't resist not saying a word as he dumped the contents back into the canister but refusing to meet his eyes when he rotated her to face him. Not forcing her to look at him he pulled her against his chest whispering that he wouldn't get mad choosing to skip mentioning the disappointment that was still lingering as he asked her again to just tell him why.

Her answer was muffled by the shirt she had buried her face in,"…because when he felt my ribs he said it didn't bother him the way it might you and if it bothers you then it would bother other men and then they might stay away."

Will had never been so glad that Emma could not see his facial expression as his eyes closed and his mouth pressed into a thin line. He was mad, beyond mad, livid, with himself. Will didn't speak for a while not sure what to say unable to work around the accusatory question bouncing around in his head. _Jesus, what have I done? _

He took a shot in the dark hoping that maybe he would hit a target.

"Emma he only said those things to make you feel insecure." As he spoke Will was sickened by the small lie he was going to tell hoping that it really couldn't be classified as such if it had never been spoken.

"You have always been beautiful to me, you always will be," he backpedaled as soon as the words left his mouth, "made even more so because of all the progress you have been making," he hoped that didn't come out the way it sounded.

_It's not really a lie. She has always been beautiful to me even if it is unnerving to feel how fragile she is…maybe it is a lie. Beautiful implies perfect. Unnerving implies not perfect and my avoiding areas of her body because I didn't want to feel bone implies on some level, disgust just like he told her._

"So I'm more desirable now than I was?" Emma hadn't moved her head leaving his mind to conjure up the worst possible implications behind what she asked.

He was starting to panic. Nothing was coming out right and he was dangerously close to pushing them both back into the deep-end of the pool they had only just managed to swim out of.

"Does that mean that I wasn't desirable before?"Now he could feel tears soaking through his shirt and he needed to fix this, fast.

Will lifted her face to his imagining himself cursing and running his hands through his hair so he wouldn't actually do it when she turned away from his attempted kiss.

"God no Emma, I've always wanted you every time I kiss you, every time I touch you, you have no idea how desirable you are to me. Don't even think that way, never, not for one second," he gently grabbed her chin waiting until her eyes flickered to his," and someday when you're ready I'm going to make love to you."

He waited unsure of how she was going to respond to that.

"Promise?" the tears had stopped as she searched his face.

"No, "Emma tensed, "I don't promise because if I promised it would mean there was a chance it wouldn't happen and that chance doesn't exist."

She relaxed against him saying that maybe peanut butter and jelly would be okay if he cut the crusts off. As overjoyed as he was at her decision to forgo the oatmeal the feeling was dampened somewhat by the barest hint of fear in her eyes as she poked her way through something that only a few days ago atop a hay bale she had eaten without a care in the world.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

It was enough, his comment, to get her to agree to the sandwich. It wasn't enough for her to eat it without fear. _Don't dwell on it. He's not lying to me. I'm not going to let this ruin the day. I'll eat something at the fair, something to put him at ease. He doesn't need to worry about this, it's my problem not his._

_

* * *

_Emma smiled as Will fulfilled his promise to dress up even allowing her to tuck the simple, white, long-sleeved, wrangler button-down into the same jeans she had made him wear to the dance. The belt was different, it had been hidden in a corner of the trunk. As soon as she saw it she knew it was perfect. Small designs ran through the brown leather a darker shade than the rest of the belt. Like a lot of western things there really wasn't a pattern to it but the silver buckle that she didn't remember seeing before that held the image of a bucking horse detracted from the aimless swirls. Emma didn't mind the lack of logic but Will did and he had studied the belt, holding it inches from his face until she had grown fed up and snatched it away.

She stood in her closet while Will waited downstairs roving over the clothes she had left unpacked for something shocking, daring, un-Emma. The college friend who had supplied her with the innuendo-ridden t-shirts that she had taken to purposefully wearing for Will just to see his reaction had also brought her some tank tops the more suggestive of which Emma had shoved somewhere behind a mound of shirts certain she would never wear any of them. Of all the articles of clothing she hadn't located yet it would have to be the ones she was searching for now. Cringing at the squeak the hangers made as they slid across the metal bar she began pushing aside sections of fabric keeping an eye out for the one she had decided she wanted.

A flash of purple appeared way in the back and Emma smiled. Pulling it out with some difficulty she studied the item she never in her wildest dreams thought she would wear in public of all places. Actually when she had buried it her reasoning had been that she would never have anyone to wear it for. It probably wasn't as racy as she considered it to be at least not compared with things she had seen other women prancing around in but it was far from her usual fashion choice.

It was simple made of purple lace that would be see through where there weren't darkened purple flowers with curvy lines that extended out to connect with the next design. Up close it looked random but from a distance there were ovals of light purple visible. A white fabric beneath the lace prevented those ovals from revealing more than Emma at least would consider appropriate.

She glared at her herself in the mirror as she compared the teenage body when she had tried the shirt on before with the one that was reflected back at her now. Her chest was not helping. She had never been satisfied with that portion of her body. As an adolescent through most of adulthood she was self-conscious about not being big enough and once the eating disorder set in she became self-conscious about being too big only content when a sports bra would hide any hint of cleavage that might remain. Now, standing in her childhood home, for the first time since the disorder she was displeased with what she saw.

On a couple other occasions in an attempt to hide her weight loss she had worn a regular bra and it had been torture the entire time. Every time she looked down she would see fat even if the cleavage was an illusion. Today she purposefully dug for one of them she had brought for the sake of her family slipping it on forcing herself not to view her increased chest size as a threat. Pulling the tank top back over her head Emma studied her new reflection. At least now the garment didn't hang loosely over her front. Re-brushing her hair and double-checking the make-up she had applied darker than usual without another glance to the mirror Emma made her way down the stairs. It took her a while to reach the bottom. Her spark of confidence as she had blown past the mirror seconds ago had fizzled and she stopped on every step glancing down to convince herself that the bra was not making her look fat. Looking forward to Will's reaction as she opened the door she secretly allowed herself to admit that this wasn't the only reason she had dressed this way. She was hoping to force herself to feel as sexy as Will claimed she was and maybe push away the nagging voice that was telling her otherwise.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will paced back and forth across the living room dodging the coffee table with every pass wondering why he just didn't move over a couple feet so he could walk in a straight line with the small percentage of his mind that wasn't succumbing to an unstoppable whirlwind of debris he would rather not be caught in the middle of.

_I got her to eat. I got her to eat something other than oatmeal. That's good. If it wasn't for my own goddamn stupidity she wouldn't have resorted to it in the first place. She wouldn't be thinking that staying too skinny would prevent men from…no don't go there. I wouldn't be worried about a relapse that would be my fault._

The door creaked behind him and before he turned Will forcefully told himself that for the rest of the evening he was not going to think about these things. He wasn't going to ruin the night Emma deserved every right to experience.

His eyes widened when he did turn his legs carrying him across the room once again swerving to avoid the coffee table so he could cup her face in his hand.

"Emma, you look…"

"Stunning, sexy…desirable?" she proffered the adjectives he wasn't finding and he jumped to chase away the hesitancy she had used before the last one.

"Decidedly stunning, positively sexy and definitely desirable."

"…but are we? No. Definitely no, positively no, decidedly no, uh-huh, "she quipped.

"Hey I changed the order that has to count for something. Besides, you shouldn't be surprised if I quote a song to describe you and you should be flattered if I alter the words because it only means they weren't good enough for what I was trying to say."

She blushed looking up at him as he looked down at her glancing up again quickly with a small smile.

"Alright cowgirl, show me a night out at the county fair."

He exhaled when Emma didn't seem to notice why he hadn't allowed his eyes to linger on her chest it was obvious that she had forgone her regular bra in favor of a one that normally would fit. Discreetly he watched as she walked around him before heading to the door and he felt guilty for doing so. It wouldn't be that noticeable to others, not if they hadn't seen shirt after shirt hang loosely without the presence of cleavage to support them.

This was the first time he had ever seen Emma in a tank top. Yes, it showcased that she was still too thin but it still looked amazing especially in combination with her make-up. The smoky, purple-grey eye shadow and heavier than usual eyeliner made her eyes more alluring than he ever thought they could be. At school she always wore soft colors and he loved that. It was cute. It was Emma. This was sexy, un-Emma, done with the sole intention of being flirty and it was working like a charm.

* * *

A drive that should have been forty-five minutes had morphed into an hour after numerous wrong turns on his part along back country roads that it hadn't taken him long to deduce were rightfully labeled "minimum maintenance." Finally they were rolling past a sign that said nothing but "Fairgrounds." _Gets the message across I guess._

Inching along he scanned the area for a parking lot surprised when a man who could pass for a southern-style Santa Clause motioned him into a pasture. Will waved his thanks and pulled in expecting chaos and finding a deceiving amount of organization. Cars and pick-ups were lined up neatly each row leaving enough space for someone to back out. It was comical but there was a problem. He had already counted eight rows of vehicles and there was a long line behind them. _This is going to be fun later._

Will checked his watch. It was five in the evening. He could wait a while to address the food issue. Glancing over at Emma he decided he would wait more than a while when she grabbed his hand pulling him out of the vehicle saying that they needed to hurry so he could see the barrel racing.

"I've already watched barrel racing today and nothing will top the beautiful woman I saw."

"This is…a different kind. Come on Will!"

Giving in to her infectious tone he allowed himself to be drug towards a large arena packed with dirt. She proceeded to haul him up a ramp and into what she called the grandstands. To him, a few roof-covered sections of wooden bleachers didn't look worthy of the title. Emma walked up and down the rows staring intently at each bench a frown forming on her face looking up he realized why. Barn swallow nests were all over the place and at the rate they were going they were never going to find a place to sit and the influx of people was not going to help.

"Emma, stop. Sit."

"I can't, it's dirty and covered in bird poop." She whined.

"Emma," he grabbed her arm pulling her back a step as he patted his leg, "sit."

When she still didn't move Will wrapped his arms around her waist forcing her to fall into his lap resituating her so she was balanced on his knee. He couldn't resist bouncing his leg up and down a couple times whispering a soft "ride 'em cowgirl," into her ear. Emma reached back and tickled his side a weakness he wished she had never discovered and told him his accent still needed work.

"Okay are you watching? If you blink you'll miss it. It's really exciting, are you watching?"

_She sounds so damn cute._

"I'm watching and it must be exciting, it looks like the whole town is here."

Will waited patiently as a couple tractors pulled into view rolling some barrels towards the gate at the south end. _Why are people cheering? Nothings' happened yet…wait._

"_This _is barrel-racing? Half the town turned out to watch two tractors push a couple grungy barrels through the dirt? I thought you said this was exciting, I think you lied."

Emma giggled her body falling back against his as she said that a lack of money and too much spare time in the country makes for some odd sports. When she told him that what would happen later in the night would make this seem normal he didn't believe her.

They strolled aimlessly across the fairgrounds Will's hand seeking Emma's when he caught her eyeing a younger couple walking hand in hand a ways in front of them. Deciding to outdo them he brought her hand to his mouth to place a quick kiss against the back. Emma moved closer to him and he wrapped his arm around her waist not caring how utterly stupid, in love he probably appeared to onlookers.

Will had been asking a slew of questions as they walked and Emma had patiently answered every one even if it was through a laugh. So far he had learned that the seemingly random cluster of farm equipment on a large patch of grass on the outskirts of the fairgrounds were being showcased, people made a hobby out of restoring old tractors and engines and sat under little tents excitedly telling anyone who walked by how they worked no matter how hard Will tried to explain that he wouldn't understand anything. He also found out that Emma was content to laugh at his expense and embarrassingly enough, purposefully carry on a conversation about the engine of an ancient Farmal tractor while the man who sat beside it simply shook his head at him. _Thanks, you don't know it yet but you will regret that too Emma dearest._

Leading Emma back to the path they had occupied before their detour Will learned that he needed to watch where he stepped.

Will was still playing predator and his first chance presented itself in the form of a darkened building that apparently wasn't being used for anything. Waiting until they were walking past the opening he tightened his hold on Emma's hand and yanked her along with him as he backed up.

He let his hands trail up the side of her body, "You look so incredibly sexy tonight…"

Will ended his statement with a rough kiss that left Emma momentarily immobile before she began to kiss him back. In a low and throaty voice he told her how badly he wanted her, waited for the moan he knew would follow and walked out calling "syrup" over his shoulder.

He had only made it about ten steps out the door when Emma was suddenly on his back her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. Will stumbled slightly under the unexpected attack and jumped up and down a couple times causing Emma to lose her grip and slide to the ground.

"I was only trying to save a horse." She was pouting at him.

_Why did I walk out again? Oh, right the syrup. That was stupid._

Will started moving forward before the idea of returning to the building behind them became too enticing to ignore. He didn't notice the calf trailing lazily behind a small boy that stepped out in front of him. He did notice the sound of a child's laugh. At the other end of the rope the brown-haired boy who was dressed in a white shirt with a four-leaf clover in the corner was all but rolling on the ground and apparently his parents had never taught him it was rude to point. Will stuck his tongue out at the kid smiling when the gesture was met with silence, laughing himself when the boy did it back. They stood there for a while each trying to outdo the other with funny faces.

"Kevin! Would you stop messing around and get over here. I've been looking everywhere for you." That woman didn't sound too pleased.

Will shouted out an apology to the brunette across the gravel pathway and said s hurried bye to Kevin sticking his tongue out again to assuage the fear in the boys' eyes.

"What's it like to be a grown man trapped within the mindset of a five-year old?" He had forgotten Emma was privy to that entire exchange.

"Entertaining, but in my defense I'm not all five-year old. A five-year old wouldn't be thinking about making out with you now would they?"

Will laughed as he chalked one up for himself on the perverted conversation scale when Emma agreed and then grimaced.

Peals of screams drew Will's attention to the midway. He hadn't been on some of those rides since he was a boy of Kevin's age and since Emma had just likened him to a five-year old he officially granted himself permission.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

"Do you trust me?" a soothing voice drifted into her ear as she stared frozen by the sight of the rotating, germ-infested contraption looming before her.

"Yes."

There was a gentle softness in Will's eyes as he led her up the ramp and sat her down in a seat that rocked slightly giving the man next to them two tickets before he slid in next to her his arm instantly around her waist.

Emma squeezed her eyes closed when she felt them start to move up ignoring Will's suggestion that she could hold onto the bar in front of her. She couldn't do that not with the countless people who had touched it before her.

"Emma, open your eyes."

He pulled her against him as he spoke angling himself so that her back was resting on his chest. Reluctantly she obeyed his request never expecting the view that greeted her. She could see for miles and the sun that was now half-way below the horizon had everything bathed in a brilliant gold. It was breath-taking.

"I had no idea…" she trailed off turning to look at Will who was staring directly at her instead of the sprawling landscape.

"I did."

* * *

Once they had gotten off of the Ferris wheel Emma had felt fairly secure that Will wouldn't ask her to go on anything else. The cage she now found herself sitting in squished next to his body as she forgot her aversion to safety bars and held the one above her in a death-grip was undeniable evidence that she had been wrong. He had guilt-tripped her into this telling her how he had always wanted to ride it but had never had anyone to go with him. As soon as they were fastened in with a strap across their waist that Emma did not think was adequate he yelled over the booming music that he had lied. Bringing his mouth to her ear he talked just loudly enough for her to be able to make out his words and she instantly regretted waking him up with ice.

"I'm not letting you off this easy though, "he continued.

Throwing a devious grin in her direction he whistled to the carnie on the other side of the grated metal.

"Spin!"

Emma didn't have time to ask what that meant before her world turned upside down flipping end over end as she screamed while Will laughed. The ride lurched to a start and they were flung up far too fast and Emma squeezed her eyes against the weight-less sensation that was forming in the pit of her stomach as they rose over the top and began to fall back down. Daring to open her eyes she saw the ground headed straight for her and she screamed again. Will was yelling too but his sounded jovial in nature.

She was starting to calm down and chancing to open her eyes when the ride kicked into reverse. Their cage was still rotating and the sudden change in direction did nothing to help. By the time the ride finally stopped she had managed a couple times to produce a small laugh when Will cried out in an excited tone that this was better than the mall carnival before screaming "whoo-hoo" at the top of his lungs.

Emma couldn't walk in a straight line when she got off and the man beside her who was in the same boat trying to support her only ended with them both crashing to the ground. Emma sat and laughed for once not caring that something embarrassing had just happened to her in public.

"I think we've disturbed our vestibular nerve."

"What?" Will turned to stare at her as they made their way back to the grandstands.

"It's a joke we tossed around in physio. It means that you feel dizzy."

"Right," Will drew out, "so let me see if I understand this."

His hands were suddenly around her torso as he lifted her up above his head spinning her in circles like a parent would a child. Emma stumbled breathlessly when her feet found the ground again.

"Is your vestibular nerve disturbed?"

She would have hit him if she hadn't missed due to lack of coordination.

* * *

**Will's POV**

They were back in the grandstands, Emma on his lap, his head on her shoulder as he waited to see what could possibly trump the absurdity of tractors pushing barrels. Will grinned as a chance to impress Emma popped up.

"Hey, those are combines! See I pay attention…why are they painted with teeth and flames and horns…and…a pink bunny?"

Will watched Emma curiously as she fished around in a front pocket for something. He still couldn't tell what it was as she raised her hand to his forehead pressing against him with her thumb. Raising his hand up to feel whatever it was she had stuck to him he exhaled through his nose and ducked his head with an amused chuckle.

"You realize I feel like Rachel now right?" Pitching his voice as close to Rachel's as he could Will continued," but Ms. P Mr. Schue gave Quinn the solo that was rightfully mine. There is no way she can perform it, let alone hit that F the way I can. I'm disappointed at the way he so carelessly threw away our chance at Regionals. You have to talk to him!"

Emma scowled and turned away mumbling that she now understood why his first-grade teacher never gave him any gold stars.

That had been a fiasco. He had given a solo to Quinn even though the cheerleader had said Rachel could have it but he had wanted to give Quinn a chance so he insisted she be the one to perform it. Rachel ran out of the room and as he found out from Emma later straight into her office fuming about how no one, least of all him, appreciated her talent. It had taken Emma two hours to calm the girl down and it had taken another hour to negotiate his way through a group meeting. It's very hard to explain to someone why you did what you did when they cut you off every two seconds to reiterate how much better they are then someone else and not resort to yelling to get your point across. It's even harder when your girlfriend keeps shooting you looks of exasperation. They had won Regionals but Rachel had given him the cold shoulder for two weeks straight.

Will peeled the sticker from his forehead and placed it on the tip of Emma's nose stating that it looked better on someone who was actually a star trying hard to contain his laughter at how tacky the comment was giving up when Emma burst into giggles right in his face.

Returning his attention to the combines that there now appeared to be five of he listened as an announcer introduced the drivers and their monstrosities that were outfitted with names he would have expected at a monster truck rally. A countdown began and Will matched it in Spanish against Emma's neck.

On the count of one the combines began moving forward at a speed Will didn't think they were capable of.

"Wait, aren't they going to-"

He shut up when the crowd broke out into a thunderous series of yells and hollers when a black combine with sharp, pointed teeth crashed into another that was painted in flames. Unaware that Emma had turned to look at him he sat there with his mouth open as the process was repeated until only one combine remained, the others sat where they had stopped a wooden pole with a white flag attached held up in the dust-filled air. The people around him cheered louder jumping to their feet stomping hard on the bleachers. _They're giving a standing ovation to a combine? That's just disgraceful to performers everywhere._

Will held onto Emma tightly as she tried to avoid making any contact with the people they were walking alongside to head back into the night whispering that she was fine when someone inevitably brushed against her.

"I've never gone to one of those you know. I was too scared of them, the noise and the dirt but I wanted you to see it."

He smiled at her how told her how great that was, how great it was that she had faced so many of her fears tonight taking the moment to also inform her that they needed to get something to eat. That was going to be an issue. Everything he had seen was swimming in grease and for some odd reason usually on a stick. Fried Oreos on a stick was not something he saw every day.

As expected Emma was finding reasons to turn down everything he suggested. Will stopped beside a hot dog stand after his attempt to tell her that eating a cheeseburger would be no different than the one she had eaten at the dog show fell flat.

They had been standing in a long, winding line for five minutes arguing over the safety of a hot dog and Will could feel the stares their conversation was drawing.

"I don't know how many calories it has." Her voice was even, at least she wasn't panicking yet.

"It doesn't matter, it will be fine."

"What if it has two-hundred or more? What if it has five-hundred?" Panic laced her defenses that time.

Will ran a hand through his hair ignoring the strange glances he got when they finally got to the window as he asked the young girl taking orders how many calories was in one of their hot dogs hoping this wasn't a move he was going to regret.

A confused voice answered around the smacking of gum, "…um...I'll…go check."

He waited questioning his decision more with each passing second on the verge of praying that the calorie count wouldn't be high and that Emma would eat one anyways if it was.

"190."

Not looking back at Emma he ordered two hot dogs and a coke for himself grabbing the tinfoil- wrapped food and moving them towards a table that while empty when they initially started heading in its direction now contained a young teenage couple. Will rolled his eyes, that would be his luck and this would be their only option.

Asking the couple if they minded sharing Will smiled returning the favor when the young man introduced himself as Greg and the girl beside Emma as Kathryn. They talked about minor things Will every once in a while sneaking a peak at Emma only to be see an untouched hot dog every time. She wasn't partaking in the conversation and frankly Will gave the other two props for not mentioning how odd it was that the woman next to them was ignoring everything to stare at her food like it was going to bite her.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kathryn scoot closer to Emma and he bristled ready to pick up and leave if she said anything. He continued conversing with Greg missing small bits here and there and a large chunk when Kathryn whispered something in Emma's ear. Will moved to stand up when Greg's hand landed on his.

"Dude, don't. She knows, she's been recovered for four years. We were behind you in line. She's just trying to help." Greg's voice was full of compassion and Will had never felt so indebted to a stranger before in his life.

Will relaxed taking Greg's cue resuming their talk of old school rock bands. When Emma looked up at Kathryn and offered a small smile before she took a bite of the hot dog Will wanted to reach across the table and hug the brunette. He waited until Emma lowered her head to take another bite to whisper for Greg to tell Kathryn thank you. Kathryn must have heard him anyways because she tapped her fingers on the table causing him to look up as she mouthed her response with a smile.

Emma had eaten the entire hot dog and they had said an emphatic good-bye to the couple, Emma hugging Kathryn and Will heartily shaking Greg's hand. Throwing their trash away they soon were back on the gravel path headed towards a large building with fans so large Will could hear them already. It was well-lit and as they drew closer his eyes widened. Emma was leading them into a cattle barn.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The young girl had restored her confidence at least momentarily. The whispered words had been so simple but they had meant the world to Emma.

"Don't let it control you."

Those words were the reason she was determinedly hauling Will into a building full of dairy cows. Once inside she blinked under the bright lighting stiffening at the smell that although clean still meant cattle. Will grabbed her hand. She was going to pull away but at the last minute backed out. She wanted a support system.

Picking the first row she came to she began to tentatively walk over the fine-powdered floor at first not able to raise her eyes from the ground. _You can do this. You're in here. Just look up. _

Emma lifted her head forcing her eyes to remain open as she took in her surroundings. Dairy cows enveloped her on both sides and the row that had seemed short when she initially started down it looked never-ending now. Will, at some point, had fallen in line behind her and Emma had lost track of how many times his hand on the small of her back had given her the courage to undertake something that she wanted to run from.

Shuffling forward she found herself face to face with black and white calf that only came up to her waist. She didn't notice the little boy standing next to it.

"Hey, I know you two, you're the ones who bumped into Kesa, well he is."

Emma looked down to find Kevin sticking his tongue out at Will who in true Will form was doing the same.

"Do you want to pet her ma'am, she's real nice, and soft, you won't believe how soft she is."

"No, I don't-"Emma began stepping back slightly.

"Aw come on, she ain't gonna hurt you. Here, see,"

Before Emma could stop him Kevin had latched his little fingers onto her hand and placed it on Kesa's neck. Emma stopped breathing and Will quickly moved to pet the animal as well purposefully settling his hand over hers for longer than was necessary before continuing along a patch of black. Slowly Emma began to move her hand. A smile crossed her face when it dawned on her that she was petting the thing that was indirectly the cause of so many of her problems and she thought it was soft.

After Kevin and Will played another round of Funny Faces they bade good-bye and headed back through the door they had entered in. Emma could still feel the small grin on her face as Will pulled her around the side of the building.

* * *

**Will's POV**

This little kid was everywhere and he was pushy too. Will smiled before he stuck his tongue out raising his eyebrows up and down for added effect. He sounded so cute when he asked Emma if she wanted to pet the calf and like Will predicted Emma declined. He lowered his head saddened that she had turned the boy down when he heard a sharp intake of breath.

Looking up his eyes widened as he watched Kevin place Emma's hand high on Kesa's neck stretching as far as he could to do so. He had a triumphant grin on his face that Will half-heartedly returned wishing the boy knew the possible repercussions of such a simple act.

She wasn't moving and he reached his hand out starting down a path that led to where Emma's hand was sitting. He flattened his hand over hers momentarily before continuing along a swatch of black. Will wanted to kiss Emma when she began to pet Kesa and he wanted to shout for joy when he saw her smile.

For the second time Will felt an unbelievable surge of gratitude for a stranger, for the amazing little boy who had unknowingly just helped Emma take a huge step away from something that had plagued her for years. If Kevin asked for a million dollars Will would find a way to get it to him.

Once they were back outside Will wasted no time maneuvering Emma around the side of the building out of hearing-range of others who would probably think their conversation a bit odd.

"Emma I'm so proud of you, you pet a cow. You smiled, your still smiling, I'm so proud of you," Will stepped up and kissed her softly, "anything else you feel like taking on tonight because I'm all yours."

He was sweating by the bucket load by the time Emma actually allowed him off the cement that had been dusted with ground up rubber for a street dance. To his credit he had found it easier to keep with the line dances this time, some of them were ones he had attempted the other night.

He leaned against a light pole watching Emma laughing and talking with the women next to her realizing he must have been the topic of choice when Emma pointed in his direction. _That's never embarrassing._

Glancing away momentarily he swallowed his dignity smiling back at the woman next to Emma who was almost leering at him. Letting his eyes wander over to a certain purple, lace tank top he realized now that she was surrounded by other women Emma's low body weight was a lot more noticeable than he thought it was. When he was a kid his mom had once told him he was feeding Allegro too much, that the dog was getting overweight. Will hadn't believed her but did as he was told gaping at a picture he found years later of a Golden Retriever that could have been a different dog if it weren't for the face. Had he not had that to draw off of Will would be hating himself right now for missing such an obvious thing but it was unavoidable, the changes too gradual just like they had been with Allegro.

Redirecting his attention to an upbeat song that was starting to play over the speakers he furrowed his brow at the lyrics. _What in the world is a badonkadonk? I know that's not a word._

Zeroing in on Emma Will shook his head as the lyrics only grew more absurd watching as Emma did an abrupt about turn kicking one leg out and in time with everyone else on the floor slapped her rear right as the words "slap your grandma," played. _Okay that's a bit weird but if it gets her to do that…country music you're growing on me._

Emma weaved her way over to him at the end and it was clear from the rather speedy retreat of many bodies that the dance was over. He kissed her on the forehead laughing when the star that she must have saved somewhere ended up back on his face sticking even though his skin was damp.

Sitting in the pasture amongst a sea of headlights they made out in the front seat, his playful suggestion after he had given up on exiting with the masses and it didn't take much for Will to convince himself that an over-zealous Emma climbing into his lap with her back against the steering wheel was a far better way to pass the time onlookers or no.

* * *

A/N: thoughts?


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: You will forgive me. I promise.

Would anyone believe me if I said I wasn't planning on writing this either? It's a _really _thing I'm on break or I would be so totally screwed. I also wasn't planning to have this whole thing minus one small blurb be in Will's POV but it is what it is.

**

* * *

****Chapter Twenty-Four**

**Will's POV**

They were leaving today diving head-long into a life both of them had momentarily forgotten. Everything had been so perfect except for the one thing that wasn't.

In a few too-short hours they would be hurtling back into a world of work, therapy sessions, nutritionist appointments and the stress they would undoubtedly bring. He would be swamped with Sectionals preparations, last minute changes he always second-guessed, the hour-long after school rehearsals that would slide into two possibly three because his kids wanted first place, that sense of accomplishment and he would do everything in his power to support that, to give them every advantage he could. He wanted nothing more than to see them up on that stage accepting the trophy they'd worked so hard for.

He would be lying if he tried to convince himself he hadn't thought about not going. It meant leaving Emma alone for an entire weekend and given recent events he wasn't comfortable with that just like he wasn't comfortable with the thought he never once imagined he would entertain let alone allot serious consideration to, serious consideration to not going to the competition. He would go. He knew he would. He couldn't let the kids down like that. He couldn't let Emma catch on to his rapidly forming insecurities about the progress he single-handedly felt he decimated.

Nothing but the welcomed absence of light and the sound of Emma's breathing as she slept soundly in his arms accompanied his soul-searching and he found himself wishing the sun would forget to rise. Emma had once mentioned that sometimes she didn't want the night to end because in the darkness, the complete silence it afforded, she could finally relax, and that daylight would only bring expectations and responsibilities. He had remained quiet not sure how to respond to something he didn't understand. Lying here now he understood perfectly.

Will held Emma tighter wishing he could give her that, protect her from the day the sun was slowly beginning to threaten them with.

Her rhythmic breathing lost its steady tempo and his eyes snapped open when she started to speak his heart clenched at her words that like so many other times he was getting lost in, unsure how to negotiate his way through as he desperately searched for insight to selfishly provide comfort to himself, so he could maybe selflessly comfort her.

"No I didn't, "Emma laughed bitterly, "I didn't watch her die. You're clearly confusing me with someone else because those words don't belong in my life. I'm sorry you had to be the one to take her off life-support, that she died before you could tell her that you loved her but please stop making it sound as if I experienced these things, it's unnerving. I didn't watch her die. You're relentless. Again, stop wording your thoughts as though I took part. I don't appreciate your accusing me of ending my mother's life, especially when you state it so coldly, when you say that I killed her instead, "the harsh edge dropped from her monologue in its place a defeated whisper, "even if I know I did."

Will knew this issue hadn't been sealed and left behind with the morning he found Emma crying behind the couch, when she had told him things, revealed thoughts and accusations no one should ever have in their possession to begin with.

"I'll tell you a secret, "she was still whispering, still talking to no one, "I made the decision to take her off because I knew you couldn't, because I didn't want you to live the rest of your life under that burden even though you're in your eighties and I'm carrying it in my thirties."

She wasn't crying, her voice was too even, but he was. The depth and pain behind that confession was too raw, too real, worded too simply for everything it contained and he couldn't stop his tears, so he placed a single kiss on the back of her neck because he still didn't know what to say. Maybe she didn't want him to say anything. Maybe he shouldn't have just brought to light the fact that he was awake. Maybe he was tossing around too many maybes. _Maybe._

He never noticed her start to cry but the red-rimmed eyes that greeted his as the alarm neither of them needed filled the air told him she had been.

He didn't question her silence as she dressed in sweatpants and one of his sweatshirts despite the Virginia heat. He didn't stop her when she reached for the canister of oatmeal measuring it with a precision he hadn't seen her use for a long time. He tried not to think about how slowly she ate, how she used a long-handled spoon counting under her breath before each bite, how she never met his eyes. He covered for her when she half-heartedly hugged her family good-bye lying to their face as he convinced them she was just tired. He hadn't tried to get her to talk on the long drive home because he didn't have the heart to and she never offered staring blankly out the passenger-side window as the Virginia countryside was replaced with the unwelcome, industrialized landscape of Lima, Ohio.

"Em, "Will spoke gently shattering the silence, "sweetie, we're home."

Emma said nothing in reply as she opened her door, walked around to the back of the van and removed box after box until she was able to crawl into the back and wrap her hands around the one she was looking for. Will wordlessly climbed in behind her when she was unable to move it and at first she swatted his hand away before she sat back in frustrated defeat allowing him to carry the unlabeled box inside.

Emma sank to the floor in front of the box he had deposited just inside the door as he turned to head back outside to grab some more deciding that since she had started the unloading process he might as well finish it. He placed the other boxes back where they had been, wanting the extra effort as he slid his hands under another cardboard encased set of memories and started back up the stairs. He gently nudged the unhinged door open with his foot wincing when it connected lightly with Emma's back as he struggled to squeeze through the small amount of space he wasn't going to ask her to move to widen.

Carefully he sat the box next to the couch pivoting to walk back out halting after his eyes briefly landed on Emma. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, the box next to her open as she gingerly placed one toy horse after another in straight lines in front of her arranging them by size. Will stood where he was watching, confused and saddened by what he was witnessing. There was no expression on her face as she reached into the box repetitively, mechanically, occasionally caressing a horse before she set it down her hand hovering over it for a few seconds to make sure it didn't fall over on the carpet.

She was fishing now, digging for stragglers that had eluded her, hiding in the corners or under the flaps at the bottom. Her hands fell to her lap as she surveyed the grouping of toys that surrounded her like an audience waiting to applaud a performance. Will started walking over when she began to move them around like a child who was used to playing alone, leaving the dialogue in their head because there was no one to share it with. He sat inches away mimicking her position silent as she continued. He wanted to know what was going through her mind, what words she was substituting for the animals she held on to. He doubted she was actually playing. The creativity required for that mysteriously vanished with the onset of adulthood. Will still remembered stumbling across his old dog toys that had entertained him for hours as a boy. He would create elaborate scenarios in his mind, fabricating a story for every last one of the inanimate objects. Lovingly, he had set them out the way Emma was doing now realizing at the age of fifteen that he was no longer capable of anything other than staring at the toys no matter how hard he tried to regain the imagination he hadn't been aware he'd lost. He even tried to draw from old games he could still recall today feeling a slight twinge of disappointment when he was unable to act them out. They were packed away in a box just like the one beside Emma, unlabeled like the contents held no more value than bothersome extra blankets. He had shoved it into a remote corner of the attic and never opened it again.

"They all have stories you know, "this time she was talking to him, "macabre ones considering how young I was when I played with them. This one here," she held up a brown horse that he recognized as the Budweiser horses he saw on TV, "his name is Clyde, original I know, and he was separated from his herd as a colt. All he ever did was try to find them, asking the other horses if they had seen his family."

Will furrowed his brow that was nothing like the upbeat stories he had made up. The Doberman that was intent on making it big on Broadway, breaking away from the small town he called home. He always did, every time getting the lead role, returning home to gloat in the faces of those who had mocked his dedication to the arts in high school.

"This guy, "Emma was now holding a generic, brown, plastic horse that must have come as a set because they were many more just like it, "this one is named Spot because there is a small spot where his paint chipped off and he was always made fun of for it and often tried to roll in the dirt to cover it up but it never worked and he stopped trying to make friends. This mare, Mary, she never felt good enough. She wanted to be perfect but always felt like nothing no matter how many times her friends told her she was wonderful. She could never get away from the voice in her head and it finally brought her down far enough she ran off the edge of a cliff, committed suicide I guess you could say. I never left her out of the world I created but every time I brought her back I killed her off again because her voice was mine and sometimes I thought like that."

_What? Did she just imply…_

"Emma," he kept his voice low, under control somehow squandering the waver that wanted to break free, "how old were you?"

"Fourteen, kinda lame that I was still playing with toys huh?" Her answer was just that, an answer like he had asked how old she was when she got a present for her birthday.

He wanted to stay on that topic but she picked up another toy and he bit his tongue hoping this memory wouldn't be worse than the one she had just shared.

She held up a black horse next, "Sparky, see the saddle on his back?"

Will leaned in closer noticing a brown saddle made of some sort of fabric removable by the looks of the buckle underneath. He nodded both as a way of saying he did and for her to continue.

"That saddle was the last thing he had received from his mother. He was going to be competing at a local rodeo, his mom on her way to watch because he had insisted she come but her trailer was broad-sided by a semi. He never took it off. Tragic irony now isn't it?"

She grabbed the largest of the horses a white, hard plastic stallion that sported a black, plastic saddle with reigns fashioned out of a fine golden chain. She smiled and Will allowed himself to think this one might be positive. "This was a gift from my mom one year when my parents were separated. I was staying with my dad and his mother over the holidays and although I don't remember it he said that after I opened this gift I had refused to put it down to open anything else. I just stood in front of my grandma's picture window asking when mom would come to pick me up. My dad never mentioned what he was feeling as he knelt beside me with a present trying to coax me to open it but the look in his eyes as he talked did it for him. I can only imagine how horrible that must have been, how heart-breaking. I wanted to sleep with Whitey. If you look closely you can see where my dad filed his ears down because they were too sharp. He made a special trip into town that night to his dad's old auto repair shop for the file. I did eventually open the rest of the gifts the next morning but I never let this one out of my sight."

She was back to staring at her small collection clearly done with her trip down memory lane. Will led her half-way back, half-way between the past and the present because one of those childhood revelations he couldn't let go, not with the worry that was creeping into his mind, overwhelming because of what it suggested.

He reached out and picked up the horse she had held moments before.

"Emma, Mary, you said you were fourteen, that the voice in her head was yours when you pretended she…," he was always horrible at saying things he didn't want to hear, "Do you still feel that way, the way she did?"

Will studied the toy in his hands. It was so simple, innocent, a horse produced in mass from a plastic mold for the enjoyment of children, to be held and loved and forced into stupid situations that were silly and completely unrealistic. Not scenarios that were far too heavy for any child to be able to concoct especially someone like Emma.

"Sometimes…when I can't get away from the voice that has always been there, that has only gotten worse over time, when I feel so much hatred for the things I can't do because I'm crazy…when I can't stop picturing my mom dying before my eyes. I heard a song once about taking a gun when it was loaded from someone because the other person couldn't hold it. I think about that a lot, about how I essentially took a gun and used it against her." Emma was whispering again like she wasn't sure she wanted to tell him this, like she was surprised at the sound of her own voice forming the words.

The hand holding Mary dropped listlessly to the ground the horse falling from between his fingers as her words soaked in. _9 Crimes, Damien Rice_. _How long as she felt this way? She mentioned her mom dying, that's recent. What does that mean? Why am I asking myself these things, I don't have the answers, she's talking, ask her before she stops. _

He had no idea how to broach this. The initial inquiry had been hard enough, a tad too intrusive and far too personal.

"How often after your mom died? What did you think about…doing?" Will was suddenly glad Figgins had required all of the faculty members to attend a workshop on dealing with suicidal teens, "Did you ever have a plan?"

_Do I want to know this? Should I even be addressing this without consulting Dan or someone at least qualified? Someone who has been trained in these things because I don't think an hour long workshop is enough to go off of._

"Fairly frequently right after," it didn't escape him that she didn't mention how frequently, "There was an outcropping almost like a cliff above the creek fairly high up. I used to think about jumping but I was too afraid it wouldn't work, that's where I got the idea for Mary though. When I was standing their one day I threw her over the edge because I didn't have the guts. That's why dad had to glue her leg back on. Sometimes I think about walking in front of a vehicle but I never do, sometimes I think about pills…but...I would never..."She trailed off.

He was finding it easier to run through his thoughts privately before he voiced them to her.

_She ran into the street the night her mom died. I never really probed too deeply into what she had been thinking. Maybe I should have. Maybe I still could. What about when she hurt herself in the bathroom? What kind of pills are here? I'm definitely calling Dan. We are definitely scheduling a meeting as soon as possible. What about when she heard me say I was worried she was going to die? _

"That night you ran into the street, when you hurt yourself. Was this what you were thinking about?" _God, please say no, please._

Emma looked up at him as she reassured him that the only reason she ran into the street was because she was trying to escape the voice that was screaming at her for being in a McDonalds and the reason she had cut was because when she fell on the glass it had left her numb and it was calming and she had only wanted it back.

Will exhaled in relief, she had told the truth. One more thing to ask, one more thing he was afraid of, one last thing that he needed an answer for.

"Did you…is this why you were so withdrawn this morning? Have you thought about doing…anything, "he still couldn't speak directly choosing circles instead, "today, since we've been home?"

Emma laughed and his worry increased ten-fold. This was not a laughing matter and the sound she had produced had been dark, cynical like when she repeated what the voice was telling her.

"That wouldn't be a smart thing to answer now would it? No, I haven't thought about it today unless you count my telling you which I regret because I never wanted to worry you like this. Don't worry okay? It's not a big deal. They're fleeting thoughts, always have been and they've lessened over time."

_No, you're wrong. This is a big deal and fleeting thoughts are the first step no matter how long they have been around._

"Before you get too worked up I should tell you that all of this gets worse before I get my period, during it even. I've always been on the extreme side of the mood swings that accompany my hormones going crazy. For roughly two weeks out of every month I'm an emotional wreck, an intense emotional wreck."

_Before I get too worked up? Too late. I've read about this, about women who fall into a sort of variation of major depression during this time. _

"Okay, so what does that mean, for right now, until your period ends?" _Ever present border of too personal, I haven't missed you._

"It means what I said, that I get emotional. I don't know why I was so care-free these last few days, that's never how it works. Maybe it means I bring this on myself, maybe you helped because when you're around it's harder to fall into myself."

It was a Saturday but Will had already made up his mind and as much as he wanted to do this in secret he didn't want to go behind her back even though he had also decided that he would follow through regardless of her answer.

"Do you mind if I call Dan?"

"Dan? It's Saturday Will," she was confused, he was trapped.

"He gave me his cell when we left for Virginia, told me to call if I needed anything. He's a good guy."

"Would it make you feel better if you did?" she was staring directly at him now just puzzled.

_I have no clue how it would make me feel Emma because I have no clue how to interpret this, how worried I should be or if I should be taking any preventative measures…_

"Yes." Will answered with what was between the lines.

"Okay" That one word confirmation had been a lot easier to extract than he had envisioned.

Will nodded and stood up pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he sat down on the couch motioning for Emma to sit beside him. She walked over slowly collapsing onto the cushion snuggling into his side as she grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her body whispering a tiny apology.

"Don't be, I'm glad you felt you could talk to me." Will told her as he manually dialed the number he didn't want Emma to know he had placed on speed dial wondering why his memory wasn't betraying him. _I wish we were back in Virginia. _

He answered within a few rings and Will just like every other time he had talked with the man was put at ease by the gentleness behind his voice. Will dodged the small talk asking when he and Emma could get an appointment mentioning that it was about something he considered serious.

"How serious," the voice on the other end of the phone asked.

"Would it help if I told you I still can't say it out loud?" Emma apologized again and Will squeezed her reassuringly.

"Look, swing by, meet me at my office. I have a key. I was just about to head into town so leave whenever you can. I'll be there." He always sounded so incredibly sincere.

Will fumbled his way through a thanks surprised at the invitation. He had been expecting an awkward phone call not an awkward face-to-face visit. As he convinced Emma that it would be okay he wondered why Dan was so willing to give up personal time. _Wasn't there something on that contract we signed, something about suicidal thoughts and calling anytime? I should have taken the time to read that part._

_

* * *

_As promised Dan was waiting at the front door of the business when he and Emma pulled up smiling warmly at both of them while he unlocked the door telling them to take a seat in the lobby instead of his office quipping the couches were more comfy when Will looked at him questioningly. Kudos to him for attempting to keep the mood light.

Nothing about this environment was like his office and oddly that was a comfort to Will and he only hoped it was to the woman once again pressed into his side. Dan calmly asked what was up and Will raised an eyebrow at his informal word choice.

Emma wasn't speaking. _Great._

"Okay, I'll start. I guess." Will reluctantly geared up for another verbal torture session.

"We just got back from Virginia, which was amazing by the way," staying true to his promise to Emma he skipped over the Gates incident deciding that he was going to break said promise and bring it up in a private session," but today…was rough." _Understatement._

"Why is that?" _I was going to continue, no need to prompt. Why am I so defensive? I'm sorry sweetie._

"She started talking this morning, didn't know I was awake. It sounded like she was telling someone that she didn't watch her mom die, that they were confusing her for someone else. She kept talking that way until at the very end after she told whoever to stop accusing her of ending her mom's life she whispered even though she did. This morning, the whole morning she was withdrawn, ate oatmeal, didn't talk on the way home and I didn't force her to. When we got home she unloaded one box and took it inside and I began unloading the others. She was sitting on the floor when I walked in placing toys around her, horses. I wasn't expecting her to start talking. I used to make up stories when I played as a child but the ones she made up, they are…different, dark." Dan stopped Will asking if Emma wanted to take over motioning for him to continue when she shook her head. _This feels like some horrid form of betrayal, talking about her like she's not here when she's right next to me._

"She said they were macabre I think is the word she used but I had no idea just how literal that term was. This is out of order but one of them had a small area of chipped paint and was made fun of by all the others until it stopped trying to make friends. Another had been separated from his family and searched for them endlessly. That was when I thought about how I used to pretend how a toy I had would become a star on Broadway when I thought about how…abnormal her stories were. He skipped over Whitey not wanting to drag this out longer than he had to. _I feel so incredibly stupid bringing this up in the form of a toy horse._

"The one that I remember vividly _for obvious reasons _is one she called Mary. She said that Mary always wanted to be perfect but felt she never could be so she…jumped off a cliff. I thought that was incredibly sadistic until Emma said that the voice inside the horse's head was the one she had. That worried me but it scared the hell out of me when she told me she was fourteen."

Dan held up a hand, "I'm going to stop you there, Emma why did you feel that way at such a young age?"

She snuggled into Will deeper, "because I couldn't protect my parents."

_What child thinks about protecting their parents at fourteen? How is she able to pin everything on herself?_

"Why did you feel you had to protect them, what brought that on?" Dan asked softly.

"A lot of things." She mumbled.

"We have a lot of time." He prompted and this time Will didn't mind.

* * *

Will sat in the silence of the apartment holding Emma against him the same way he had been before they had left. The TV was on but he had no idea what was happening. Judging by the look on Emma's face he could just turn it off, it was on mute anyways.

Emma whined next to him placing a hand on her stomach. He felt sorry for her. By the time they were ready to leave she had started to feel sick and had gone out to the car before him. Unfortunately her discomfort had afforded him the chance to question Dan in private about what he should do or how worried he should be.

Will wasn't exactly convinced when Dan said he didn't believe Emma was in any immediate danger of doing anything even after he had been handed a pamphlet that was now stuffed in his back pocket. It seemed like a mockery, listing symptoms of suicide in bright yellow with a blue background and neat little green bullet marks. The entire thing looked far too upbeat for the subject it discussed. Still, he had read it and considered it useless with the appearance only adding to his opinion. He wondered if that was how the students felt when Emma handed out the pamphlets she was always straightening on her desk. Thinking about it now some of them did have pretty ridiculous titles and if he was on the receiving end he probably wouldn't even bother to open it based solely on that.

His mind was whizzing along at 110 miles per hour as he contemplated everything he had just learned about Emma. It explained so much about her but at the same time it left more questions. He had been surprised when she started to talk wondering why she hadn't when Dan asked the first time defaulting to the idea that maybe it was because she knew he was capable of doing it for her up to a certain point.

Without being aware of it he tightened his grip on the woman nestled at his side a protective gesture made in response to his thoughts returning to what Emma had said but this time instead of merely repeating her words as best he could remember in his head Will infused his own as well.

She had started off oddly enough talking fondly of times when she and her father used to take long hikes that they would come back exhausted from mentioning with a smile that she often ended up on his shoulders. She brought it full circle when she said that her childhood home even though people were still living there felt abandoned like the dilapidated farm houses her dad and her would explore on their hikes.

The creek, _crick_, Will mentally corrected. Everyone out there said crick no matter how the word was spelled, that surrounded the farm place a ways out also seemed out of context for a while. Emma mentioned that years ago someone who was worthy of a Darwin Award had attempted to straighten out what once had been a meandering stream she could remember jumping across as a child turning it into a gorge fifty feet wide with banks just as steep. Every year it eroded further back and Emma likened it's eating away the farmland like anorexia was eating away at her. That comment still bothered him, a lot, because she had used present tense.

Emma continued talking about the creek saying that at one point a farmer had poured a cement bridge over the Butterfly so he could get his farm equipment across and that she could still remember going with her mom to throw scraps over the edge from an old ice cream bucket as she carefully stepped in the hoof prints left by a deer that had walked through before it had set. Emma admitted she had accidently lost her grip on the container sending it flying into the muddy water that had been moving faster than normal courtesy of a heavy rainfall the night before. She commented that she had cried for hours despite her mother's reassurances that they had an excuse to eat ice cream so they could get another scrap bucket. He had looked up in confusion when Emma revealed that she had never allowed herself any of the dairy product even though she had been six. She felt she didn't deserve it, that she had done something horribly wrong by losing the bucket. That was when he realized just how deep the roots of her self-hatred really were. He wasn't up against something that had been a part of her life for the past few years he was up against something that she admitted she couldn't remember a time without and that was as daunting to him as it was heart-breaking.

He had sat there feeling like an idiot with no words of any kind to offer. When she started mentioning that she had become an adult well before her time he had closed his eyes. It was something he had slowly been piecing together over the course of their relationship. Dan again asked when the need to protect her mother and father had arisen in what Will still figured was an attempt to steer her back on course with the original question. Both of them, he thought, were surprised when she began to give a direct answer.

Emma had mentioned in passing her parent's two month separation after her third birthday although she had never told him any details. Today she admitted she didn't know the specifics and that she would never pry into the issue that she was content not to know anything about.

She visited her father every other weekend and every night he would wake up crying in their shared motel bed saying how at only four she would wrap her arms around him as best she could telling him it would be okay that she would fix both him and mommy so they could be a family again. He had wanted to pull her onto his lap to offer a hug of his own when she revealed that her father's response had always been, "Thank you tweetiebug because daddy just doesn't know what to do anymore. You're all grown up at four."

Something like that, something of that magnitude should have never been left in her hands at such an age and Will still felt some residual anger towards the man he had grown to appreciate so much over the last week. It was hard to imagine him ever placing that kind of burden on Emma but Will was no stranger to desperate actions regarding women and love.

As she spoke he had started to see why Emma was always so guarded with her emotions. He had always assumed it was a result of her protecting herself from disappointment. Assumptions, he was realizing, should never be applied to the woman who was resting calmly at his side.

During the separation her mother had started buying frivolous things left and right. On one particular shopping spree that Emma remembered in incredible detail her mom had been cheerfully picking out oddball furnishings for the house in the process getting Emma a horse that she had shyly asked for.

At the check-out line the total came to more than her mom had figured. Emma was still mortified on her mother's behalf she admitted to no one in particular as she had watched her take two pillows and three rugs back to where they had found them. Her mother had reprimanded Emma when she had started to do the same with the horse. Emma had told them that up until that point she had never known one person could feel so "sick" as she had called it back then because she didn't know the word for guilt. Tears had formed in the corners of his eyes when Emma told him that after that she never asked for another toy, that she avoided the toy section completely and that every time her mom came home with one she was unable to play with it for a while because every time she looked at it she felt "sick."

About two weeks later Emma bitterly recalled that her mother had come home with a smile on her face and the pillows they hadn't bought in hand. Emma hadn't known what a payday was but to her it was the reason her mother had been able to buy something. She had thought Emma's tears as she had put the pillows on the shelf were because she had really wanted them not because of feeling "sick" over her refusing to let her put the horse back. At four Emma already had a concept of money and Will had sat in disbelief as she confided that sometimes she hadn't been able to sleep at night worried that her mother's spending would force them to live on the street. She even had a list of what belongings she would pack just in case. That got to Will more than anything, imagining Emma figuring out what toys she would take if they ended up on the street. True to form Emma had turned her mom buying the pillows against herself becoming angry because she had cried in the first place. From that day on Emma hid her emotions from her mother and by extension everyone else in her life including him. Those words had stung.

Some of these things were still in effect today. The few times he had given Emma a present wrapped or not Emma always ignored it no matter how prominently he displayed it. She would never even so much as look at it until he physically took her over and asked her to open it and even then she was nonchalant. The fifth or sixth time this happened he hadn't bothered to hide that he was offended and had demanded to know why she would never just accept something from him or at the very least look excited when she did. It was one of his all too common open mouth insert foot moments when Emma yelled through tears why she acted the way she had.

Between sniffles she told him about a Christmas where her mother for the first time ordered her a gift over the internet. Her excitement over how much she knew her daughter would adore what she had christened the "perfect Emma gift" had rubbed off and Emma's usual reserve about not wanting to draw attention by ripping into a package had vanished. It had been a beautiful Precious Moments figurine with a farm boy and girl sitting on a fence with a small white foal at the girls' feet or at least what should have been a small white foal had it not gotten broken during shipping. Emma's mother was understandably upset ranting about how everything she tried to do for Emma just blew up in her face. When her mom had started to cry because of how excited Emma had been Emma told him that she had promised herself she would never act that way before opening a gift again because if she didn't act excited then the person giving it to her wouldn't feel so horrible if something was wrong.

A piece of paper that was neatly folded in Will's wallet had been seconds away from being scraped the day he had found the emails when it's blocky, uncoordinated child's writing stopped him in his tracks. The name on the upper right margin that floated unevenly above the line was Emma's and the equally crooked year showed she would have been a first-grader. Scrawled in shaky lettering were the words _"I hate me becuz I cant fix all the bad stuff."_ There was no grade on the paper which left him thinking that maybe it was just something she had written. Will's mind flashed forward to their appointment with Kristen when he had mentioned that he didn't understand how one person could have so much hate and only direct it at themselves. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined her perfection-derived guilt stretched so far back into her past. It was no wonder this controlled her so much, that it fueled the fire behind her eating disorder not with how many years it had to wear her down.

Even her instant crying over conflict that was never conflict to begin with had been clarified. Her parents had argued endlessly after her accident, about whose fault it was and while they blamed each other Emma blamed herself. Many evenings he and Emma would be curled up together on the couch both reading a book and it never failed that about five minutes in Emma would ask Will if he was mad. The questions would continue in the form of "Are you sure?" until he put down his book and in detail explained that he was not angry. One night after a particularly stressful day he had snapped at her which in retrospect was the dumbest thing he could have done. Trying to convince someone you are not mad at them by borderline yelling was never very effective. Another open mouth insert foot scenario had come out of their exchange when Emma once again through tears explained that silence at home meant someone was mad. Since then Will had gone out of his way every few chapters or pages depending on length to whisper that he loved her. Over time Emma accepted that around him silence was nothing more than companionable but every once in a while he still offered the sentiment.

Will had learned more about Emma's guarded behaviors over the course of a couple hours then he had gleaned over the course of their relationship. He was slowly teaching himself to probe for a reason before becoming frustrated because now more than ever he realized with Emma there always was one and to her it always made perfect sense.

Emma drew him from his thoughts as she pressed her face into his chest groaning and twisting against him. She really wasn't feeling well.

"Do you want some crackers? Sometimes they help."

She gagged against him and Will prepared for the worst. It wouldn't be the first time he was thrown up on for Emma's sake though he hoped it didn't happen.

"Will." She sounded miserable.

"Come on, let's get you to the bathroom," he managed to get up without disturbing her too much reaching out to pull her off the couch.

"No, I'm afraid to move," she had been preparing to say more but another gag cut her off.

Telling her he would be right back he ran into the bathroom grabbing the small waste basket swearing when he saw that it was full. He ripped the bag out and threw it on the ground not caring that the contents rolled out across the floor.

As soon as he got Emma to lean forward with the basket beneath she puked and Will was glad that even though he had a weak stomach he didn't suffer from the chain reaction effect to the smell of vomit like some people. Kneeling in front of her he moved to gather her hair to prevent the large sections that were falling in front of her face from being placed in the line of fire. She tried to mumble a protest cut off by another round of heaving and even though her body had prevented her from getting the words out he knew what she was trying to say.

"Don't be embarrassed, everyone gets sick just don't give it to me kay?"

"Don't want, "she took in a gulp of air only for it to be released with liquid," you to see me this way."

"Already have Em," _That was an incredibly stupid thing to say. The only times I've seen her this way have been when she's been making herself sick._

She whined into the trash can and he apologized softly. Emma leaned against the front of the couch taking steadying breaths for a while at least it looked like her stomach was going to stop torturing her.

"Hey, "he began softly," do you think I have time to go dump the waste basket. I'll bring back a wash cloth and some water."

Emma nodded weakly staring at the ground as she continued her deep breathing. Will placed a small kiss to the back of her head not thinking much of it until Emma moved away. _Stupid move._

Dumping the contents into the toilet he grabbed a wash cloth running warm water over it stopping by the kitchen to snag a glass he filled with cold water. Emma didn't meet his gaze choosing instead to blindly reach out waiting for him to place something in her hand. He guessed that she would want to clean up first. She wiped at her mouth and quietly thanked him for holding her hair. The water disappeared in a quick gulp before he could tell her to slow down. He knew from past experience that chugging water on an upset stomach was never a good idea.

Something was on her mind but like so many other things today he didn't pressure her to talk about it silently telling her it was okay, that she could tell him anything.

"I lied."

That confession was not the apology for being disgusting he had been expecting and subsequently it took him a while to reorganize his response even though her statement was as direct as it could get. He waited for her to elaborate sliding easily into the familiar role of pushing her along when she didn't.

"About what?"His voice was easy, unassuming which was difficult because this was hard and he was assuming everything.

"About the pills…I lied about the pills." Her confession was so soft he was amazed he caught it.

Frantically Will racked his brain trying to think of what was in the medicine cabinet wondering why he didn't remember her going into the bathroom. _Advil, Tylenol, Prozac. Oh god I have Prozac. She's been sick for no apparent reason... _

His general practitioner had placed him on what Emma called "Psychology's Aspirin" shortly after his divorce with Terri when he had barely been able to function. It hadn't lasted long and just like almost every other prescription he was put on had never finished taking them. When he had first started spending the night he hid the bottle at the back behind numerous other ones too embarrassed to admit he was on an anti-depressant. It was only a matter of time before Emma had found it one night while she was obsessively organizing. When she confronted him he had wanted to crawl under the couch but the only thing she had done was reprimand him for not finishing out the bottle stating that going on a medication that played with the chemicals in his brain and abruptly withdrawing without gradually weaning himself away from it was a very dangerous thing to do. Selective Serotonin Reuptake Withdrawal Syndrome he learned was why he had felt so out of sorts for weeks afterwards, responsible for his almost constant vertigo and the tingling in his face and hands that only worsened when he breathed harder, cramping his left hand into an awkward position that he had gone out of his way to hide during demonstrations in Glee far too many times. For some reason she had put the bottle back and he had never asked why. It didn't make sense to him but apparently it did to her.

_What the hell am I doing?_

He hadn't meant to grab onto her shoulders as roughly as he did and she stiffened under his firm hold.

"Emma, look at me. What did you take? How many?" the words tumbled from his mouth smashed together reminding him of when he listened to someone speak in a foreign language.

When she didn't respond he shook her slightly also something he hadn't been planning on but he wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the moment.

"Emma!" his voice was stern, panicked, terrified and he was already reaching for his phone "Damnit answer me!"

Emma shook her head and Will didn't notice her starting to speak too consumed with worry to notice anything other than the rising fear and the phone in his hand, the three numbers he was more than prepared to dial.

"Emma, if you don't answer me I'm calling 911." He had never been in a situation like this before and he had never asked anyone questions like these and the fact that he was aiming them at Emma was making him sick, the fact that he had just threatened her with the police had him considering the waste basket that was still at her side.

She never raised her head. "I haven't taken anything Will."

"Don't lie to me." He didn't know he could sound that stern.

"This was just poor timing to bring up something from my past. I'll just add it to the list of stupid things I say without thinking first."This time her eyes had found his and he almost fell backwards when he went to lean against something that wasn't there.

"Do you have any idea how much you just scared me? Poor timing isn't adequate enough to describe what I just went through," Will shook his head, he hadn't meant to sound so angry," Emma I'm sorry I didn't mean for that to come out the way it did."

There were tears forming in her eyes, starting to trace their way down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away pulling back when he tried to reach out for her.

Wordlessly she stood up headed towards the bathroom Will instantly following still to shook up to let her out of his sight and he was going to grab that bottle. She started to brush her teeth, six times, simply staring at him through the mirror as he pushed her to the side so he could slide the medicine cabinet open placing more pill bottles then he remembered on the counter top until he found the one he was looking for jamming it into his pocket.

"I don't blame you," her words were distorted by a mouthful of toothpaste.

_Was that meant to be reassuring? I don't blame you? Does that mean she doesn't blame me because she would have done the same if the situation was reversed or does that mean she has been thinking about them?_

"What did you mean by that? What you said just now, that you don't blame me."

"I would have done the same thing if I was worried about you." She was done brushing her teeth splashing her face with cold water that due to proximity flung droplets against his as well.

She placed her arms on the counter lowering her head as she began to talk. He studied her reflection like the mass of red hair he was staring at would give him some sort of hint about how to navigate another trip down memory lane that ever since this morning he didn't want to travel anymore.

"When I was sixteen I overdosed on a mood-stabilizer I was on. I wasn't planning on it, not with pills that is," her head shot up wide eyes meeting the shock he had been too slow to disguise.

_She did have a plan. Did, past tense and it wasn't concrete, calm down. They don't have to set in stone, the action can be impulsive. Fucking workshop._

"Like any other morning I brushed my teeth, curled my hair and then unlike any other morning I deviated. I dumped six pills into my hand. Everything is always six. Downed them with one gulp of water and waited. Of course nothing happened. I didn't know what time-released medications were. I thought I would instantly feel dizzy or sick or tired or…anything. I shoved six more into my pocket deciding the ones I had just took weren't enough and sat in the car as my mother drove me to school terrified she would somehow find out yet not regretting what I had done. High school was hell for me Will. I've told you a bit about that. I was stupid, naïve and depressed and what I was doing seemed so much easier than what I was putting up with."

Will began to put his arms around her but she pulled away and he kicked himself for trying. Every other time she had been vulnerable she had resisted his touch there was no reason for this to be any different.

"In choir as the bell rang I waited for the my teacher to look at me as I lingered on the risers hoping he would notice, hoping he would say something, that he would get concerned when I popped pills into my mouth but he only smiled and commented that candy wasn't allowed in class. I don't know why I tried to get his attention." She stopped and per unwritten rule he prompted.

"What happened?"

"We had a choir concert that night, an elaborate one. We had been working on the songs for months and I was so proud of myself for learning and memorizing them all including the ones that were in Russian and Japanese. I couldn't wait to sing, to feel that sense of accomplishment as the audience cheered and our director beamed at us mouthing a good job and giving a quick thumbs up before addressing the people. I starting getting dizzy when I was standing in the wings and as soon as I took two steps I knew I wouldn't be performing that night. I couldn't walk in a straight line. My legs felt like rubber and wouldn't go where I wanted them to. I staggered my way over to my teacher, told him I couldn't go on. I will never forget the look of disappointment in his eyes nor the anger I felt because of it. He didn't know what I had done, it wasn't his fault. There was too much background noise for me to notice the ringing in my ears. My dad drove me home while I told him I was sick, asking if he should stay until my mom got off work, if he should make soup. I told him to leave, to go do chores. I said that I wanted to sleep and maybe there was more behind that word than I implied. The ringing only got worse, pulsating until I would shake my head to try and make it stop. It would go away a little then only to crescendo to a point that I knew I was going to go deaf from. I was terrified. When mom got home she didn't buy my story and I confessed to the pills I had taken somehow convincing her to not take me to the hospital. I lied about the amount, told her five or six instead of twelve. I curled up next to her for awhile seeking comfort I never found before I gave up and went to my bedroom. The ringing got so bad I stumbled my way to the kitchen popping an Aspirin. The last thing I remember is walking across the living room to sit down on the couch…"

Will felt like a broken record player, "What happened after that?"

"The next thing I remembered was the sensation of being carried out the door on a gurney as I worked through a haze to ask what happened. I won't ever forget the frantic note in my mother's voice when said I had a seizure just like I won't forget the sound of those sirens or the man in the back of the ambulance continually asking me how I was feeling, the slight pressure of a bag pressed against my right calf. I have no idea what was in that bag and I guess maybe I shouldn't assume that's what it was, it just felt like one. When I woke up again I was in a hospital room and the first thought I remember having was that at least it was sterile before I fell back asleep. My parents came to visit, the pastor came to visit. That was awkward. We played Dominoes on one of those plastic food trays on wheels. I still won't play that game. I let him say a prayer for the sake of my mother."Emma paused," Is this making you uncomfortable? I can stop if it is." He could tell by the tone that she wanted to continue.

"Honestly, yes but only because it hurts to hear but don't stop," Emma apologized, "don't stop." Will repeated.

"You're going to think I'm crazy," more tears.

"No, no I won't." he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear caressing her cheek offering a small smile of encouragement.

"They took me to an adolescent psychiatric unit a couple hours away, apparently by ambulance but I didn't know that until one of the other patients told me. I was so naïve Will. I didn't know why a nurse was following me around twenty-four seven. It didn't dawn on me even when she wouldn't let me shut the door at night or close the curtain to the shower that I was on suicide watch." Emma snorted, "A girl whose arms and legs were wrapped in bandages from self-injury told me. She was nice, sweet."

"I was there for five days and you might not believe it but I got used to it, the controlled environment that was such a relief because I didn't have to make any decisions. Scheduled times for group therapy, meal times, snack times, relaxation, meetings with a psychiatrist, and even though it was the most stress-free I had been in months I was still disappointed every time I walked out of one of that room told I wasn't allowed to leave yet. I made friends, first time in my life that I was able to make friends so easily. Crazy friends, appropriate right? It's ironic to me now that I didn't understand why they always wanted to see how much food you ate, turning it into a percentage, giving you a grade like you would get in school. They were especially diligent with the girls. They weighed you every day and I still remember being told that my weight of 114 wasn't very much but my stomach had been pumped so I didn't think too much of it. It's odd that I remember the number though. I can't imagine being 114 now. It scares me to think that I was," almost as an afterthought she added, "does that bother you?"

"Yes," he answered truthfully choosing not to go into the reason why because he didn't want to stop her narration and he didn't want to deal with that issue, the one he feared was creeping back, because of him.

"Psych wards are a joke you know. While you are there you feel like you are one-hundred percent better because suddenly you aren't worrying like you used to or dealing with whatever brought you there to begin with. As soon as you walk out those doors, back into your real life it all comes crashing back ten times worse, infinitely more unbearable because of the glimpse you got of life without it all. I think that's why so many people end up going back. I know it's why I did." Will could tell by the way her voice dropped that saying that was hard, telling him that she was admitted twice was hard.

"I don't think you're crazy Emma," he reassured again.

They were both sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor now her eyes in her lap while his rested on her. It hurt to hear her talk like this, more than Will thought it should have because it was in the past and there was nothing he could to a change any of it. That didn't stop him from imagining that he could especially when Emma told him that it was a girl who called her a crazy bitch that had caused her to write an entry about committing suicide in a journal she hadn't known her mom was secretly reading while she was asleep which landed her back on the ward.

Will tried to get her to eat after that but she refused, giving in eventually to a few saltine crackers but nothing more. Whether that was due to the eating disorder or her stomach still being upset he never asked.

* * *

It was one in the morning and they hadn't moved from the couch they had sat down on at eight last night. Emma was lying on top of him with her head tucked under his chin reminiscent of their first date.

"Emma?" his voice was jarring in the night.

"This morning in bed, who were you talking to when you said you didn't watch your mom die?"

"Myself, not the voice, just myself, I have that argument a lot. Those words really don't belong in my life and there are so many times when I'm going about my day and it slams into me that I watched her die. That's when it starts, when I start trying to convince myself it wasn't real but the images never let me finish." He couldn't believe how willingly she was opening up to him today so he continued to press his luck.

"What about when you said you were going to tell a secret? When you said that you ended her life? You said something about someone in their eighties. Were you talking about your dad?"

"I wish you hadn't heard that," she breathed against his neck, "yes I was. I hate him for that and I hate myself more for feeling that way. Have you ever had something that you want to say so badly it's almost painful but you know you never will because it would be so devastating to the person you care about too much to damage them like that so you play out the conversation in your head to try and get it to go away and although that never works you keep doing it anyways?"That struck far too close to home.

_Yes…she's waiting for an answer. Tread softly…_

"Yes I know what that's like." _Don't ask why. I don't want to lie to you._

Emma raised her head looking directly at him and Will wished he was anywhere else, anywhere in the world. He would sit through twenty-four hours straight of Rachel screaming at him over a stupid solo just to avoid this conversation.

"I don't know if I want to tell you that Em."

"You know one of mine, what are you so afraid of?" She was a bit hesitant yet there was a persistent edge that meant he wasn't going to be allowed to skate around this one.

Will sighed bringing his hand up to run through his hair thinking that maybe he should come with a different way to express frustration, something more subtle.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?"

Why did that question have to sound so innocent when what he was going to say was anything but?

"For a lot of things, for leaving you with Gates, for what you went through because I did, for not noticing your eating disorder sooner, for making you go to therapy because I feel like every time I talk like you're not in the room that I'm betraying you, for failing to show you how much you mean to me, for not realizing that until you said you were worried about what people would think when they saw us together…"He didn't want to go any further.

"You're leaving something out."

"Sorry isn't enough for what's left Em."He was unrealistically hopeful she would leave it at that.

The silence that had been a comfort this morning was oppressive and overwhelming now. She was overtaking his role prompting him without the words he relied on.

Now it was his turn to whisper a confession he never intended to admit to her. Somehow all the quotes about honesty being the key to a healthy relationship that he used to cling to didn't seem so wise anymore. They seemed…destructive, the antithesis of healthy.

"I'm afraid of what you said the other day about Gates, about how you are afraid of men. That you feel if you are too skinny they might stay away because I feel like that's my fault. If I hadn't left you, if I would have stayed even though you told me not to you might not be thinking that way. I'm ashamed because there have been times when I have…avoided parts of your body because I didn't want to feel bone. I'm terrified that everything I just said is going to push you back into the eating disorder," he had just told her something he hadn't really admitted to himself yet and he was desperate to make this somehow sound better," I'm just being honest Emma, I love you more than anything," thinking quickly he added, "and you are desirable to me and I wasn't lying when I said I have always found you beautiful. Please believe that, please." He was begging, it was pathetic, he didn't care.

"I know, I didn't know about the Gates part but I did know why you didn't touch me in some places. That night you placed your hand on my ribs and told me you loved me, that was both hurtful and helpful all at once," Will tensed, "hear me out okay? It hurt because it confirmed what I had been trying to deny, that on some level my body did bother you," Will opened his mouth his protest never having the chance to reach his lips before she continued," but it helped too because it showed me that you were willing to overlook that to make me feel loved. That probably doesn't make any sense and I'm not saying that I want to stay this way because I know you will accept it. I'm saying that you placing your hand there in some convoluted way helped me to feel safe, cherished."

Will hugged her, "If it wasn't such a tacky line I would tell you that you are more than cherished, that I worship the ground you walk on."

"You're right that is tacky, but sweet because it came from you."

He turned to the table next to them searching in the darkness for the ipod he knew was there somewhere.

"I heard a song the other day amongst some twang-free static that made me think of you. I had to stoop to an all-time low and call Rachel because your father lives in the stone-age with no computer and I live in medieval times with a cell phone that doesn't have internet access. I put it on here. Listen to it, please? There were two versions and I chose the one marked explicit it's not anything bad I just…think it gets the point across better."

He felt Emma nod and he handed the ear buds over waiting until she gave the okay to press play turning the volume up enough that he could hear the words.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Her breath hitched after the first verse and she didn't know exactly when she started to cry.

_Made a wrong turn_

_Once or twice_

_Dug my way out_

_Blood and fire_

_Bad decisions_

_That's alright_

_Welcome to my silly life_

_Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood_

_Miss, "No way it's all good. _

_It didn't slow me down._

_Mistaken_

_Always second-guessing_

_Underestimated_

_Look I'm still around…_

Emma was pulled from her the words that seemed written especially for her momentarily when an ear bud was removed only to be replaced with Will's mouth against her ear as he softly began to sing along.

_Pretty, pretty please_

_Don't you ever, ever feel_

_Like your less than_

_Fuckin' perfect_

He was right, the swear word did add to the meaning. He continued to sing placing the most emphasis on the line that contained what he was trying to convey the most.

_Pretty, pretty please_

_If you ever, ever feel_

_Like your nothing_

_You're fucking perfect to me._

_You're so mean_

_When you talk_

_About yourself_

_You were wrong_

_Change the voices_

_In your head_

_Make them like you _

_Instead_

_So complicated_

_Look how we are making_

_Filled with so much hatred_

_Such a tired game_

_It's enough_

_I've done all I can think of_

_Chased down all my demons_

_I've seen you do the same_

_Pretty, pretty please_

_Don't you ever, ever feel_

_Like your less than _

_Fuckin' perfect_

_Pretty, pretty please_

_If you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're nothing _

_You're fuckin' perfect to me._

Will dropped out when the bridge started.

_The whole world's scared so I swallow the fear_

_The only I should be drinking is an ice cold beer_

_So cool in line and we try, try, try, but we try too hard_

_And it's a waste of my time._

_Done looking for the critics, cuz they're everywhere_

_They don't like my jeans_

He jumped back in quickly for the next line a hint of humor coloring his voice causing her to smile through her tears.

_They don't get my hair_

The effect of him singing that one line and then falling silent again caused Emma's smile to turn into a small giggle as she realized just what critic that remark was aimed at.

_Estrange ourselves and we do it all the time_

_Why do we do that?_

_Why do I do that?_

_Why do I do that?_

When he began singing in her ear again Emma realized how much she had missed his voice.

_Oooh, pretty, pretty, pretty_

_Pretty, pretty please don't you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're less than, fuckin' perfect_

_Pretty, pretty please if you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're nothing you're fuckin' perfect, to me_

_You're perfect_

_You're perfect_

_Pretty, pretty please don't you ever, ever feel like you're less than_

_Fuckin' perfect_

_Pretty, pretty please if you ever, ever feel like you're nothin'_

_You're fuckin' perfect_

_To me._

Emma felt Will's hand on her chin as he lifted her face from the shirt her tears had left damp murmuring softly that she was fuckin' perfect to him before his lips brushed against hers as he deepened what had just become the most meaningful kiss Emma had ever received and she wanted to show this man just how much she loved him.

Crumpling the ear buds into a tangled mass she would regret later she placed them on the table next to Will turning off the light because she wasn't ready to see his face, not yet and she didn't want him to see hers, not yet.

Moving her head back underneath his chin again she lightly traced patterns along the fabric of his shirt beginning to counting in time with his heartbeat telling herself that when she got to ten she would talk.

_Ten._

"Will?"

"Hmm?" he was obviously getting tired.

"I want," she began but couldn't finish.

"You want what sweetie?" his voice was still slurred but he sounded more awake now.

She had been planning on boldly declaring what she wanted not whispering it into his shirt.

"I'm ready…I want to make love with you." Her face was on fire and her decision to shut off the lamp was officially reinforced.

Will sat up beneath her careful to make sure she didn't fall backwards as she felt a warm hand cup the side of her face followed by an equally warm set of lips.

"Emma, are you sure? Don't feel pressured, please." She couldn't tell if he was excited or nervous about what she had just said.

"I'm sure…but we can't, not yet." _That didn't come out right at all. _

Emma could feel his confusion like it was being transmitted through his fingertips. She was more embarrassed now than she had been right after she had first admitted this to him. This wasn't working out at all how it was supposed to. She wasn't supposed to feel this mortified."

"Wait, what?" _Definitely confused._

Emma dropped her head to Will's chest again and took a ragged breath.

"I want to but, my period…I'm sorry." She sounded so pathetic.

Will's chest shook with a soft chuckle.

"Oh, I forgot about that given the topic. Don't apologize," he lifted her face to his with a thumb under her chin," We've waited this long, I think we can handle a few more days but please if you change your or have any doubts at all between now and whenever…this happens tell me and as embarrassing as this will sound I assure its not meant that way, if you have any questions, any, at all, just ask. I'll answer, if I can that is." Another low vibration worked its way through his body with his last comment.

_He's so sweet and understanding and patient._

"What if it's a stupid question?"

"Hasn't anyone taught you there is no such thing as a stupid question?" he was smiling, she could hear it.

"Haven't you ever listened to Brittney?" She was smiling now too.

"That's different, she doesn't count. She's sweet just, why are we talking about her right now? I liked the other topic better." That was playful.

"Of course you do realize this is officially going to make it ten times harder to keep my hands to myself." Will whispered against her neck with a small kiss.

_Sweet, understanding, patient and still very much a guy._

Emma giggled against him, "I love you."

"Igualmente," he muttered into her hair before placing his mouth against the same ear he had been singing into earlier to murmur "likewise."

* * *

A/N: So...do you forgive me? I hope...

Sorry if I botched the lyrics. I put the song on my ipod after a friend said they heard it and it them of me and I've listened to it a gazillion times and normally I'm a pro at deciphering lyrics unless I want to post them on the internet apparently. I looked it up in three different places and got three slightly altered sets so I pulled from what I thought made sense (save one annoying line that I can't figure out) and what I thought I heard. Correct away, I want to know.

If you don't know, the song is Fuckin' Perfect by Pink and it's Fuckin' amazing! Forgot to ask last time, any thoughts on Matthew Morrison's Summer Rain?


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: All good things come to those who wait...you're welcome:)

...and I just realized I forgot to hit spell check, sorry guys.

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will woke up with a giddy, stupid grin on his face. The same giddy, stupid grin he had fallen asleep wearing and he was pretty sure that if someone were to have snuck in and taken a picture during the night the developed film would show that it had never left.

Yesterday had been a horrendous emotional rollercoaster and he was still suffering the residual effects of the pure fear that had slammed into him when he thought Emma had overdosed. During the night he had woken up countless times just to hug her warm body against his, to listen to her steady breathing.

Every rollercoaster both real and metaphorical had a stopping point and from where he stood the point that theirs had stopped at around one in the morning was perfect. Fuckin' perfect. Pink deserved a very sincere note of thanks but he couldn't figure out how to word, "Thank you for writing Fuckin' Perfect because it got my girlfriend to open up and say she was ready to have sex," in a way that didn't sound crude and immature on his part.

Emma was still sprawled out across him one arm hooked around his stomach while a leg rested between his and it didn't take him long to realize that he really needed to move because that leg was bent at the knee and that knee was far too close to an area he would rather it not be anywhere near.

Slowly Will unwrapped Emma's arm from his upper half and promptly laid stock still while he tried to figure out what to do about the rest of the woman still draped across his chest. Placing one hand on her hip he began to gently nudge her towards the back of the couch as he simultaneously started to slide out from underneath her missing the warmth of her body heat instantly. Emma moaned the sound thick with sleep and maybe if he worked really hard he could try to ignore the tinge of arousal. His breathing accelerated when she whimpered softly as did his effort to get out of the situation. When her pelvis rocked ever so slightly against his right hip his breathing stopped. When her knee inched up his body landing right in the worst possible location something else started. _Oh god, I need to move. I don't want to move. Well I do, just not away from her. What's she dreaming about? Is she dreaming about me? I hope it's me. I dream about her. _

His head fell harshly against the armrest a gasp escaping his lips when he felt her grind into him again as her knee pressed downwards and he couldn't stop the involuntary movement of his hips. _Stop it, she's sleeping. Get out of this. Now._

By the time he successfully maneuvered off the couch and into the kitchen he couldn't think straight. Everything about her, everything tiny detail he had found irresistible before was magnified by ten and everything that had already been magnified by ten was now magnified exponentially. This was going to be a long day he could tell.

Letting his fingers trace the cupboard above him for a moment he worked to steady his breathing and figure out what to fix for breakfast. Will shuffled his way around the kitchen opening cupboard after cupboard only to find a severe shortage of breakfast food. He was down to one last cupboard.

A canister of oatmeal stared back at him.

Will sighed.

_Last night, I had a dream and I found myself in a desert called Cyberland. It was hot, my canteen had sprung a leak and stop it!_

He mentally winced at his inability to stop an instant run-through of a song if he heard even a simple phrase that sometimes didn't even have to be the exact wording. There really weren't many things that topped the immediate awkwardness from those around him when a sigh caused him to mindlessly start reciting Maureen's protest from Rent. It would help if the words weren't so absolutely insane right off the bat. One time he had slipped up and gotten all the way to the part about drinking diet coke before he had realized what he was doing. Months of Sue proclaiming her disappointment over not finding his obituary in the paper saying he had died of a brain tumor from all the aspartame as he walked through the lunch room had made him extra careful to reign in his tendency to randomly break into song. Really it was only random to other people. It was always in context to him.

The can of oatmeal reminded him that they needed to go shopping and there was no song to accompany dried oats unless he wanted to reduce himself to the level of elementary school choir class. In college he had thought about that diddy a lot as he had pondered how he could remember something from over fifteen years ago better than he could recall the math lesson he had sat through two days prior. He was still the master of procrastination as his Spanish students would attest to in a heartbeat. Knowing songs in Spanish was a severe handicap when he finally got himself to sit down and start grading tests and quizzes. Emma had even picked up some of them which inevitably led to another reason to not grade as he worked with her on correct pronunciation. _I'm doing it again. I'm hopeless. How do I ever get anything done?_

So far he hadn't even attempted to take Emma to a grocery store figuring it would be too much for her to handle but Will was going to do everything in his power to change that today. She was doing better, dealing with things he never thought she would tackle, at least not so soon. On the other hand balancing out those steps quite negatively was her recent occasionally thwarted and sometimes successful attempts to eat oatmeal instead of food. Will officially did not consider oatmeal a food anymore and he doubted it would ever regain its status as such.

Leaning against the doorway into the living room he smiled at the sight of Emma curled around a large, plush pillow like she was using it as a substitute for his body. Will padded softly across the room kneeling in front of the couch brushing her hair away from her face as he began to place small kisses along her cheek.

"Hey there beautiful, time to get up."

Emma moaned this time in protest and rolled over. Will smirked as he slid a hand up under her sweatshirt concentrating on keeping himself under control when he unintentionally went under her t-shirt as well coming into contact with warm skin. Dropping a kiss on the back of her head he began to tickle her. His goal was achieved in the most adorable way when Emma jumped up yanking his hand out from under her clothes as she glowered at him. He had to give her props for trying even if it was a losing battle with the smile that was creeping across her face.

"How'd you sleep?" Will lowered his voice to a whisper," Have any good dreams?"

She looked down her cheeks growing red at his question.

"I slept great, and I'm feeling better so that's good." Her eyes were tracing the floral pattern on the couch.

"I didn't ask how you were feeling. I asked if you had any good dreams."He repeated chuckling at the embarrassment he was causing.

She shyly looked up at him, "What did I do?"

"Oh" He drew out the exclamation," you may or may not have moaned a couple times and you may or may not have possibly pressed against me when you did."

Emma's head crashed into his chest, "The may not part is sarcasm isn't it? Gosh this is horrible."

"Nah, I thought it was cute." _Hot, frustrating, endearing, sexy as hell, problematic._

Deciding to spare her further humiliation Will casually mentioned that they needed to go get some food. As soon as the words left his mouth she tensed pulling away spewing excuses as to why he should go without her. When she suggested that there was always oatmeal he told her to go get dressed.

* * *

Emma had grimaced and squeezed her eyes closed as soon as they walked through the automatic doors. Will ignored her seeing if she would work her way through whatever was going on inside her on her own. Grabbing a cart he rolled his eyes as he squeaked his way down the first aisle came to. Defective carts had an affinity for him and he had seriously thought about bringing DW-40 every time he went shopping. Everyone got a noisy cart at some point in their life but that never stopped them from shooting annoyed glances. A hand latched onto his arm and he looked over at Emma. Her face was growing red as her breathing became heavier while her eyes darted in every direction possible never focusing on anything. Stealing a glance to either side of them he took a hold of the hand that was now threatening to crush his arm.

"Emma, hey you're okay."

"It's so bright in here and it's everywhere no matter where I look, food and calories and fat. I don't want to be here Will. I don't want to be close to any of it. What if it makes me fat?" She was struggling to talk between what were rapidly becoming large gulps for air.

Will hung his head. He hated fighting his way through eating disorder-rooted logic. For someone as factual as Emma some of the things that she said regarding food were alarmingly nonsensical and almost impossible to find middle ground with. She was afraid that being near the food was going to make her fat like some sort of osmosis effect. Her breaths were slurring together and she muttered a soft, "No, not now, not here, please." _Shit, I agree. Not here and not now._

Switching tactics he pressed his palm against her cheek pulling her against his chest.

"Match my breathing, you're fine."

"Sir, is she alright?"A compassionate voice left Will cursing his luck.

Not bothering to look at the person he replied that Emma was okay fabricating an impromptu lie about receiving bad news regarding a family member. A gentle, heart-felt condolence was uttered followed by the sound of the clacking of high-heeled shoes on a hard floor.

Whoever the person was seemed to have gotten through to Emma probably via guilt on her part. She was calming down, the tension disappearing from her body as she allowed him to support her weight.

Will started them down the aisle again with her hand held safely in his. A young teenage couple fixed them with a questioning look laughing and poking fun by holding hands while pretending to confess their undying love. Will brushed past them not even bothering to expend the energy to produce a glare. They weren't worth the effort.

The cart was beginning to fill up. Emma never made any move to glance at anything longer than a second like she was afraid that if she did he might ask if she wanted it. Whispering that he would be right back Will released her hand and strode away with absolutely no idea as to what he was going to pick up.

Ever since the first item had been tossed into the cart Emma had been slyly trying to read the nutrition labels when he moved away to get something else. She would wait until his back was turned before picking it up, throwing it back down as soon as he started to head back. He wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't thought it odd that the bread mysteriously shifted to the left side of the sugar instead of the right where he had actually taken the time to place it earlier. A smashed loaf of bread was the one and only thing he went out of his way to prevent.

Will had purposefully put something he knew Emma wouldn't be able to resist checking into the cart before he walked away. Watching her with the aid of peripheral vision he pretended to compare prices on two different kinds of vegetable oil which even he had to admit was pretty lame but it was the first thing his eyes had landed on. She inched her way forward glancing around nervously as she lowered her hand to pick up a small bag of peanut butter chocolate chips. He didn't have any need for them but they were serving their purpose and he could always say he ate them as a snack which wasn't entirely untrue. Her mouth parted and she flung them back stepping away until she connected with the shelves behind her putting as much distance between herself and the Hershey's brand threat. He hated to see this, to see her so controlled by a number.

He carelessly placed the plastic bottles back on the shelf running through ways to confront the issue as he sidled up behind her an action that was probably counterproductive to not drawing attention to the upcoming conversation.

"Don't do that. Don't count and give me your phone please." His words hung in the air between them.

Emma attempted to play dumb asking what he was referring to until he revealed that the chocolate chips were planted on purpose repeating the request for her phone. She had been holding her it the entire time and although he had been puzzled he hadn't questioned. There were a multitude of reasons it could have been innocent but what he had just witnessed confirmed that it wasn't.

She apologized for checking calorie counts but made no move to hand over her cell.

"Emma, phone."

A defeated sigh accompanied the slight weight of a cell phone in his palm. He checked the latest text message first only to find one he had sent the other day as they had sat only a few inches apart while watching a movie saying that he loved her temporarily forgetting what he was looking for when he noticed the little icon that showed it was locked. Pushing buttons until he found the notepad he clicked into the most recent one thankful that unlike his phone hers showed the time of entry. Numbers and abbreviations filled the screen. He knew what they were but he checked to make her think he didn't. Picking up the chocolate chips he compared the label with "1 srvg 290, 12 chps." They matched. Will hit delete and flat out refused to return the phone until they were on their way home hoping the information hadn't crossed over from her working memory into to her long-term memory or short-term for that matter. Emma didn't make any attempt to protest but he felt like he was taking away a toy from a kid who was misbehaving.

_Is this how it's going to be? Progress until she's too overwhelmed by a situation to not go behind my back? Maybe it makes sense. I revert to things I haven't done in a long time when I get too stressed. Damnit this is doing nothing to lessen my worries about sectionals this upcoming weekend when she will be left to her own devices for a night and two days. I'm supposed to trust her and I'm not. Great._

Will reluctantly left her in the frozen food section only giving in because she had sounded so unsure about asking. If he took the cart she couldn't count calories and he wasn't planning on buying anything from that aisle anyways.

When he returned he found Emma standing right where he had left her, her eyes boring a hole into a pane of glass and he knew she wasn't checking her reflection. Both of her hands were clasped over her stomach, her bottom lip looked to be permanently caught in her teeth and she was shifting her weight from foot to foot nervously. From her body language alone he could tell she wanted to go after whatever it was she was trying to convince herself to take, afraid to move her hands probably because she didn't want to touch the item, didn't want to admit that she was considering it concentrating and preparing to run all at once. All of this Will was able to gather from his position at the end of the aisle. The woman roughly twenty feet away was the perfect example of how conflicting thoughts manifested themselves physically in conflicting body language.

Will was adept at the art of interpreting non-verbal communication, able to pick up on the smallest of cues, with dogs. As a child through his twenties he had devoured animal behavior books in secret. He would read through a section and go outside with a notebook and pen observing Allegro taking notes on behaviors he recognized and those he didn't. If his parents asked him what he was doing he told them he was writing song lyrics and he still didn't know why he lied.

It was still something he did automatically every time he saw a dog especially when it was interacting with its owner or other dogs. It was frustrating to watch how oblivious people were to what their dogs were trying to convey. A stressed or nervous dog would tongue-flick which only led their owners to stare curiously and ask them why they were acting like a snake. They will also pant profusely only leading owners to wonder why in the world their dog would be hot in the air conditioning. The only thing people noticed about a scared dog was what every generic dog book portrayed, a tucked tail and lowered head. They didn't know that a dog producing a "whale-eye" trotting in a circular fashion around whatever it was afraid of keeping its head forward while it watched the perceived threat with one eye meant the same thing. Falling into the same category was the tail-wag something everyone assumed always translated into a happy dog. They didn't know there were differences, important ones, variations that could mean the difference between happy and ready to attack. It was true, a wagging tail did mean an excited, happy dog but only if it was straight out from their back or hanging down usually moving in circular oddly enough counter-clockwise motion. There were other cues as well, there eyes would be squinted and their cheeks would be pulled back as far as they could be. The most common mistake was someone's inability to notice or worse failure to take the time to learn about something they thought they understood. Will was guilty of this too when he never made an effort to learn about the numerous causes that masqueraded behind an eating disorder. Just like the movement of a dogs' tail to the general public meant happy Anorexia to him had meant a messed up desire to be thin.

Will wanted people to realize that just like in violent outbursts from coworkers or shooting sprees the violent outburst of a dog wasn't random either. In either case there were always signs. Dogs that barked furiously from behind a window, fence or even right at someone's feet were usually never the ones to be concerned about just like a person who was yelling at the top of their lungs. People become overwhelmed by the noise, go into defense mode and expect the worst. The dog that fixates a person with a cold stare, stiff front legs, standing immobile, their tail straight up moving slightly at the tip with their cheeks pulled forward but not producing a growl was the one to be weary of. There next move was premeditated just like that of a serial killer. This was applicable to the extreme with humans even though people always flippantly tossed around the phrase, "It's always the quiet ones." Everyone gives a warning, every animal and every person.

The media made him sick when they droned on about the "unwarranted" attack of a family pet on a child or other family member especially when they targeted Pit Bulls. People knew that term, if you called them by their real name, American Staffordshire Terrier, those same people were clueless. The problem begins when everyone starts to generalize shoving the movement of a tail into the same categories they often do a smile; happy, relaxed, friendly. No one gives any thought to the dogs' body language when they watch clips or hear stories of a child who was petting a dog only to end up mauled or bitten. In reality the dog was trying to remove itself from an aversive situation for quite some time. Dogs disliked confrontation and would go out of their way to avoid it and the only time people start to pay the slightest bit of attention is after they growl which they mistake for a "first alert" instead of the half-way point that it really is. They will have been trying to pull away, avoiding eye contact, licking their lips, starting to pant. Their body will stiffen after a while and their ears will flatten against their skull When they whip their head around to stare at whatever they have been growing annoyed with which thanks to the media is usually a child it's too late. The instant that person moves they will be bit it's only a matter of how severe.

The basics between dog and human body language were the same it was the details that tripped him up although he was learning to recognize them concentrating the most on the small things Emma did.

For the most part the general consensus on eating disorders fell into one category and very few ever tried to re-file them. He certainly had been a member of the masses that didn't bother. In regards to eating disorders people obliterated the grey because black and white was far easier to deal with and as such less threatening. If someone didn't eat and they were too skinny they were automatically Anorexic. If that same person were to be seen eating an apple one day even if the way they went about it was abnormal people removed the title and continued on about their lives. No one ever thinks about the possibility that apple might be the only thing they ate all day or something that it was deemed safe amongst a startling number of unsafe.

He had absorbed enough eating disorder material that he had become just as sympathetic to the sufferers who became victims to such viewpoints. Those with eating disorders were considered perfectionists. Emma was a perfectionist and even though she identified as one she accepted that some things could not be kept flawless like the wind messing her hair after five minutes of being outdoors. If a perfectionist were to truly fit that word they would never get anything done. Being a perfectionist only applied to some things, never everything. Emma was the byproduct of Obsessive-compulsive Disorder, Mysophobia and now Anorexia Nervosa. She liked things to be a certain way not born of a drive to have things perfect but a derivative of the fact that it put her at ease, gave her some semblance of the control she never felt she had. In the break room Will once overhead a substitute commenting that "that red-haired chick" must be a real perfectionist because they had seen her straightening pamphlets. Will didn't mind naïve people it would be hypocritical considering all the things he was naive about what bothered him where the people who transcended the fine line dividing naïve from ignorant when they assumed they knew everything about someone or something after watching for five seconds.

In the world of eating disorders this ignorance ran amok and it probably always would. Searching online he had encountered websites that glorified Anorexia as a lifestyle. Some of the members had honest eating disorders while others were only trying to gain one. Some day he was going to look into that rift between those who maintained they wanted the disease and those who were like Emma. He had never asked Emma her feelings about how eating disorders were portrayed but after she had shut the TV off in disgust when a documentary entitled "Starving for Perfection" came on he had a decent idea. There were theories, a couple of which that went over his head and sometime he was going to approach her about the physiological explanation he had only comprehended through the first paragraph even if it was watered-down. He had gleaned that it was centered on deficiencies in the brain and that was what stopped him from asking. To him, thinking you were crazy then being asked to put in your two cents on how it is probably the result of your brain not working properly didn't sound like something that would go over well.

Will had been swimming in his world of analogies for about fifteen minute before the fact that Emma hadn't budged finally registered. There was one small difference. Every once in a while her upper half would lean forward and her arm, at least the one that was visible to him, would tense and just as quickly relax. It was a bit out of the norm for him to notice something like this in a person and he wrote it off as a byproduct of the "small parts that make up the whole" inner monologue he had been swept into. Emma was not winning whatever altercation she was currently engaged in but she was standing her ground, literally.

He abandoned the cart as he walked up to her stopping a few feet away. He tracked Emma's gaze retracing it only to end up at the same place, staring at ice cream. _She wants ice cream. She's going through all of this because she wants ice cream. I need to come off as normal._

"Do you want some?"

It was hard to keep his voice conversational when he hadn't gotten over the shock factor just yet. _I deserve some sort of award for that. _

"What? Oh…um, no," she laughed nervously, "I didn't even realize I was standing here, lost in thought I guess."

_No you weren't. _

Her giggle had been forced and everything after had been half-hearted, the way someone talks when they are more than aware they have just been caught but stubbornly give it one last shot just in case. The only part that had been genuine was the exclamation at the beginning. She wasn't going to admit she wanted any even if she managed to convince herself she wouldn't tell him. The worry about money wasn't a component anymore but the guilt was still there. Will didn't want to lose this chance.

"It's perfectly fine to want some Emma. I promise I won't judge you. I might ask you to share and pout if you don't but I won't judge you."

"You wouldn't think about how fattening it is or how hypocritical it is that I want something with dairy?" She was a timid and hopeful a mirror held up to his own feelings.

"Won't even cross my mind because a fraction of my thoughts will be used up on how delicious it tastes and the rest will be monopolized by the gorgeous red-head I will be sharing it with."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth but was instantly chased off by a look of concentration which to Will's dismay was run off by one of uncertainty.

"There's so many, too many. Why is there so many of everything? I mean who really needs an entire wall of toothbrushes to choose from…" She wasn't going to shut up if he didn't intervene.

"What's your favorite flavor?"

I, I can't make that decision…"

Will's mind picked up where her words ended. _That would to be too close to giving yourself a privilege you still don't think you deserve, too close to picking out something you consider unsafe on your own and you don't want that guilt._

"What's yours?" Everything hinged on his answer.

He thought about saying vanilla simply because it might be easier for her to accept but that would only end up with him being subjected to a years of bland ice cream while he snuck out to get what he really liked. It sounded like a lifetime movie plot minus people plus dairy product.

"Vanilla chocolate chip cookie dough, "Will admitted sheepishly. _Here it comes._

"You know if I ever go shopping without you and I don't know what you like all I will have to do is hunt down the nearest five-year old." Her smile was genuine as she teased him.

"Sounds fine by me, just ask me about clothes. I don't want any Spiderman underwear, not after the last pair. They were so uncomfortable."

Emma's just stared.

"I'm kidding."

She started to laugh mumbling something about an interesting mental image which only left Will with one course of action.

"Were you just picturing me in Spiderman underwear because I will overlook the Spiderman part if you were, of course if I left that part out then I suppose I wouldn't be wearing any underwear at all," he couldn't resist," Did that crop up in your dream at any point by the way since I'm so bluntly discussing my being nude while standing in the middle of a grocery store."

Emma abruptly looked away.

"I don't want anything big, how about a small container?" she still wouldn't face him.

"Ha! It did," what else was I doing? " he whispered playfully into her ear unable to keep the huskiness out of his voice.

"Stuff, okay now what should we get?" Her eyes were still glued to the ice cream.

_Nice try, not going to work though._

"What else? Tell me one thing and we can get the ice cream," he lowered his voice, "and when we get home maybe I will remove the part about it being a dream. Sound fair?"

Emma whined softly under her breath whether it was due to what she had just gotten herself into or a response to his comment he wasn't sure but his body as much as he tried to stop it damn well hoped it was the latter.

"It might have something to do with why I'm trying to convince myself to get some of…this." She mumbled shyly.

_What? She did not just say that, not about ice cream, not about a dairy product, not about food. Yes she did. I heard it, yes she definitely said that._

Will grabbed the nearest box of vanilla ice cream for reasons he was desperately trying not to think of and pulled Emma along as he power-walked back to the cart. Every cash register had a line and everyone seemed to be stocking up as if it was Thanksgiving and he was failing miserably at not replaying Emma's words. He ripped a magazine from the rack next to him flipping it open trying to concentrate on the first article he found, something about a new show about a Glee club on Fox. _Like that has a prayer. _After that he didn't comprehend anything.

Emma was laughing at him.

"It's not funny and it's your fault so hush." He hissed.

The drive home took forever. He forgot to give Emma her phone and the key seemed to be incapable of fitting in the lock and his lips could not find hers fast enough after he kicked the door closed. Everything but the bag containing the cold items including the ice cream, he had made sure, had been left in the backseat.

The sexual tension dissipated considerably as he sat across from her gently coaxing her to take the first bite, saying she would be fine, reassuring her that it would not make her fat when she asked over and over, kissing her softly when she take her first bite, kissing her passionately when she finished the small bowl. Will didn't eat any. He was hoping he would get some later, maybe sooner rather than later.

This wasn't going to be easy and he had already prepared himself for the very strong chance she would back out. He was expecting that actually. Everything about what Emma had shyly hinted at was as far from the Emma he knew as anything could possibly get.

They were sitting in the living room on a couple towels Emma had insisted they spread across the floor which he had happily agreed to. Will leaned in capturing her lips in a tender kiss deepening it in a last ditch effort to forget the bowl of rapidly melting ice cream that was sitting next to him. It wasn't working.

"Emma, you take the lead, tell me what to do. If at any point you feel uncomfortable tell me. We'll stop. I know how uneasy this will make you although I would be lying through my teeth if I said I'm not hoping to help you get over that."

She took a deep breath staring at the bowl and looked anywhere but at him, "…um…maybe take a bite? Kiss me?"

Will obeyed picking up the spoon that was resting on the edge of the bowl and scooping a very small amount of what was almost liquid into it. Carefully he brought it towards his face telling her again to just say stop before he placed the utensil in his mouth not swallowing as he moved to place his mouth against hers. He had been prepared to keep his lips closed for awhile while she worked up the nerve to open her mouth. He definitely did not foresee her doing so right away. Very slowly she moved her mouth against his and Will moaned softly when her tongue darted out as he accepted her invitation and returned the gesture forcing what remained of the warm liquid past his lips. _This is a dream, a very unrealistically realistic dream because this can't be happening but oh god it is._

He repeated the process a couple more times as their kisses grew more daring and he licked away the ice cream he was leaving on her lips. Emma moved so she was lying on her back and he licked his own lips waiting to see what she would tell him next.

When his mouth, full of as much as ice cream as it could hold pressed against that one wonderful spot beneath her ear he got lost in the taste of her skin as it mixed with vanilla and when she moaned he began to regret his decision to wear jeans this morning.

When she started to remove her shirt he outright hated himself for it.

He knew what she wanted him to do and he chose the spoon very cautiously dripping a small line across her chest keeping his eyes locked on hers for the first sign of discomfort. The mere thought of licking the sweet substance off of her caused his head to spin. When his mouth actually came into contact with her skin, as his tongue traced the path he created he had to stop to take a breath. She began to remove her bra and Will cut off a curse because there was no way this was happening.

Erring on the side of staying safe he drizzled ice cream all over her breasts until he was absolutely certain she was okay with it before he allowed some to drip onto her nipple. Closing his mouth around it he swirled his tongue softly sucking to heighten the pleasure he could tell by the sounds she was making that she was experiencing. He kept his mouth where it was reaching a hand back to grope for the spoon when Emma whispered for him to stop apologizing for having to do it. Finishing what he had started he kissed his way back up to her mouth avoiding it to nibble at her ear.

"Trust me, it's more than okay. I never expected this from you but fuck it was amazing."

_I didn't mean to say that. I've never meant to say that to her. It's too crude, disrespectful and that was the worst case of verbal idiocy ever._

Will buried his head into her neck to ashamed to look at her, too scared of what he might find if he did.

" I didn't mean to say that." _Not out loud anyways._

He answered his own apology with a loud groan when her hands found his hips forcing him down as she bucked up to meet him half-way. When she timidly admitted that she thought it was sexy the word came out again in a choked, strangled moan his voice and mind betraying him because he hadn't meant to say it that time either.

Emma started to remove his shirt and he helped carelessly flinging it across the room relishing the feel of her breasts against his chest. He trailed his hands down her body caressing her stomach smiling when she didn't flinch as he continued until he felt the waistband of her jeans. Glancing up at her she nodded and he held his breath as he undid the button and tugged a little more insistently on the zipper than he had been planning on. Emma arched up aiding him as he tried to remove the piece of clothing his name falling from her lips when she ground against him. Gently he cupped her not applying any pressure until he made sure she was okay with it. Her hand finding his and doing it for him he decided meant there wasn't a problem. Emma's fingers found the button and then the zipper on his jeans. His protest was cut off with a sharp intake of air when she cupped him the way he was doing with her. Loose jeans were a godsend and her hand over him was heaven. At some point his mouth had found hers again and he thrust forward against her hand breaking off the kiss when she squeezed slightly. He helped her the way she had him to shed his pants whimpering her name in a very un-masculine tone when she allowed him to pull her into him. Emma slid up slightly to place kisses along his jaw and he lost the ability to breathe when his arousal pressed against her entrance. He could feel the warmth radiating from between her legs and all he wanted to do was rip the remaining clothes off and thrust into her, come inside her and they needed to stop. Now.

"God, Emma, sweetie, we have to stop."

She started to move against him and when she pressed down the tip of his erection slid into her slightly and her underwear and his boxers became the only reason he wasn't inside her.

"Emma, if we don't stop I'm going to end up doing something you're not ready for yet."

He jerked himself away when she refused to listen whispering an apology when he firmly planted his hand on her hip when she tried to scoot forward. Will rolled over attempting to calm himself enough that he could give her what he knew she wanted without doing something he wanted more than anything. Studying the ceiling was slightly helpful, slightly because her hands were still burning trails across his chest. An eternity passed before he felt capable of placing his urges at the back of his mind.

He turned to face Emma stopping her hand that was wandering down his stomach with a firm no as he asked what she wanted. Hearing her say that she wanted him to make her come was quite possibly the sexiest thing he had ever heard

Will wasted no time sliding her underwear down her legs not bothering to take it all the way off before his fingers found her clit as one slipped inside her. _She's so wet and putting my finger inside her was a very bad idea._

Attempting to make up for his abrupt removal he increased the pressure on her clit moaning into her ear when she whimpered his name. Her hips were thrusting into his hand roughly and he softly told her to come, to say his name when she did. Some variation of his name was lost in a keening whimper so loud it left him smiling and telling her how hot that was as she stilled against his hand. He flattened his palm against her giving her something solid to press against groaning when he felt her underwear dampen more than it already was.

"Good girl," he chuckled, "good girl."

Emma recovered far too quickly and before he could even move to stop her she had slid his boxers down.

"Em, really I don't need-"

"Yes you do. I can't avoid this forever." She sounded slightly unsure but determined.

He gave in because he didn't have the control not to.

"How do you want to do this?"For some reason these conversations never decreased his arousal they way he had always imagined they would, they only heightened it.

Her answer tumbled from her mouth as a blush began to spread across her cheeks, "Would you show me how to give you a hand job?"

_She's full of surprises today and yes, more than yes, I was waiting for you to ask this yes._

"Are you sure?"

Emma told him softly that she was, that she wanted to do this for him and at the moment he was in no position to resist. He grabbed her hand and slowly closed it over himself biting back what would have been the third f-bomb when she experimentally tightened her grip. This wasn't going to take long and he was too aroused to be embarrassed by that.

He wrapped his hand over hers and slowly began to guide her movements producing an undignified combination of a moan and a high-pitched whimper. It wasn't long before he could tell that she was catching on and he removed his hand from hers encouraging her by telling her how good what she was doing felt.

"Faster, " Emma quickened her pace, "Good just like that," _How did that manage to make sense?_

Moving to roll over he told her that he could finish but she wouldn't let him move and he returned his hand to hers squeezing tightly.

"God Emma I can't take much more of this, I don't want to-"

Emma repeated the two words she had said the night they got back from the dog show and Will continued to keep her from moving her hand as he protested three times in a row.

He gave in for the second time and released her hand groaning louder than he thought he was capable of when she moved her hand up and down faster than she had been. That was too much. The ice cream that he could still taste in his mouth combined with the idea of what he was about to do was far too much and he stiffened against her unable to voice any sort of warning as he came against her stomach cursing again and again not meaning to.

His breathing was labored and he wasn't moving for a very long time.

"Will, not that I regret…but can you please get a wash cloth?" That was a very apologetic.

Opening his eyes he found that hers were closed and she was breathing a little bit heavier than she should be. He kissed her on the forehead telling her not to be sorry amazed that his legs functioned enough to get him to the bathroom.

Returning to her side he placed the wash cloth in her hand but she shook her head violently, "Please."

That one request held a slight hint of panic and as quickly as possible he wiped any trace of himself off of her skin triple-checking to make sure he got it all.

"Okay, all gone, you can open your eyes," he placed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Sorry," Emma mumbled.

"Don't be. I understand. It's fine. The fact that you let me do that was…"Will searched for the right words.

"Fuckin' perfect?" the panic was gone from her voice replaced with the barest hint of playfulness.

"Fuckin perfect," he agreed mentally thanking Pink once again for what was officially without a doubt his favorite song for the rest of time.

Will laughed, "Hey the only thing we had for breakfast was ice cream," he glanced up at the clock. _How did that happen?_

"Although the delicious Afternoon Delight more than makes up for that in my book."

Emma stared at him confusion written on every inch of her face.

"What does a desert have to do with anything?"

_Wow. I should be laughing at that but it's cute, adorable and unbearably Emma. How do I word this?_

"Em…uh...I was um, referring to what we just did which is more or less the definition of Afternoon Delight today. Actually I think it's why that term is never used to describe the desert anymore."

"Oh…oh! I thought…you must think I'm so stupid." She covered her face with her hands.

"It's cute."

"All the stupid stuff I do is cute to you." Her voice was muffled as its volume cut in half by her palms.

"Yep, especially if it means I get to teach you stuff, "Will uncovered her face so he could look at her directly, "I happen to be an excellent educator you know."

"Then why are so many of your Spanish students failing?" _Ouch._

Ignoring her jibe he continued, "…and as the _creative_, excellent educator that I am I can teach you things you never imagined…" he allowed the last word to be drawn out, throaty and suggestive.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Given everything she had conquered today it made no sense that the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that rested silently on the plate in front of her was screaming unsafe. She had no intention of letting Will know what she was going through and she tore a large bite off before she had too long to think about it.

It was sticky, clinging to the roof of her mouth like it was trying to prevent her from swallowing, to keep her from committing a crime that a few days ago wasn't even a misdemeanor. Emma stuffed another chunk into her mouth reaching out for the glass of water to her left to take a large gulp because she didn't want to feel any of it in her mouth for as long as it took her to chew. Looking up she smiled at Will who didn't seem to be aware of her strange behavior. She didn't want him to pick up on it. _My problem, not his._

The sandwich had been the easiest thing from the lunch to tackle and Emma had started with it for that reason. Staring at the pile of sphagettios in the bowl next to her right hand she wished she would have flipped the order going from most difficult to least difficult. She hadn't said anything when Will picked them up at the store but he had placed them with the front towards her so she didn't even have a chance at seeing the calorie count. At the time she hadn't been too concerned because he had been so excited about buying them that she had assumed he wouldn't be sharing them with her. Like so many other foods she had loved them as a little girl.

"They weren't hurt you Em." Will's comforting voice floated across the table.

_How long have I been staring?_

Figuring that this was at least an excuse to eat cautiously she picked up the fork and began to poke at the rings grimacing at the squishy sound they made. Closing her eyes she jammed the fork in one more time and raised it to her mouth shoveling the food in the same way she had done with the sandwich.

This was worse than the peanut butter. It was slimy and the rings fell apart in her mouth into little pieces that she feared would get stuck forcing her to put up with the taste all day. There had been a method to her madness when she had brushed her teeth religiously after every bowl of oatmeal. If she got the taste out of her mouth, especially the sweetness left over from the sugar the probability of her making another bowl or worse going out to find something equally sugary decreased drastically. The thought of finishing the threat courtesy of an aluminum can in front of her was sickening and before she knew it she had done it anyways. Emma jumped up from the table running to brush her teeth before the idea of stealing a couple bites from Will's half-finished bowl could place the control she no longer felt she possessed into the negative range. He, of course, appeared in the doorway seconds later watching her with a concerned, cautious expression.

"I didn't do anything."

"You wouldn't have had time. Were you thinking about it?" He was only inquiring but she could detect the worry behind it.

"No." _Maybe? I don't know._

"That's a simple answer." _Why is he pressing this?_

"It was a simple question."

Will stood by while she brushed her teeth and didn't allow her to stay and go to the bathroom like she said she had to. She couldn't blame him for that and she wasn't sure she really had to go. The weight of the spaghettios in her stomach was revolting. Emma tried valiantly to convince herself that all of these thoughts were the simple result of trying to eat something new but that didn't explain why the sandwich had bothered her so much. _Why am I suddenly trying to rationalize away something that made perfect sense for so long?_

It was almost an hour later when he told her she could go to the bathroom if she wanted. She didn't have to go but she walked to the bathroom anyways counting to thirty before grabbing a piece of toilet paper because she could always hear when Will did, counting to five before she flushed the toilet washing her hands as nothing but water was gurgled away. Emma stopped in front of the mirror her hand coming up to the bottom of her shirt, her fingers closing around the hem. An inch of skin was reflected back but when her mirror image threatened to reveal more she closed her eyes tight bumping into the counter as she blindly searched for the light switch not daring to look at anything until all she would find was darkness.

Will was sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out in front of him his jeans exchanged for sweat pants and his socks gone completely. The sight of him made her smile despite the uneasiness she felt over what had just occurred in the bathroom. She sat down a few feet in front of taking a similar childish pose as she spread her legs wide and leaned forward placing her elbows on the carpet.

"That looks so painful I can feel it," Will grimaced.

"I'm flexible, always have been. I used to stretch all the time. I should get back into the habit really. It's relaxing."

He wasn't saying anything and Emma looked up noticing a glint in his eyes that told her he hadn't taken her comment the way she had intended it to be. It had sounded completely innocent to her but considering this was the man who destroyed her vision of a nice strawberry desert it definitely wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he was going to twist into something perverted. Emma liked this side of him and she sat quietly anxiously waiting to hear how he would go about altering the previously pure meaning behind her words.

"Yes, you should start again. Being flexible has its…benefits." He smirked.

_Oh so that's where he is taking this. Okay Will I'll play along, kind of but it's going to cost you._

"You know what? You should do some with me. Here sit like I am, "

It was so unbearable difficult to keep the laughter out of her voice as she forcefully grabbed one leg and then the other shoving them further apart then she knew would be comfortable for him. Emma wished he hadn't put sweatpants on while she had been in the bathroom.

"Ow, Em, I'm not meant to move this way," all suggestive banter was absent now.

"You're a dancer, yes you are. Besides haven't you ever watched those guys who do yoga?"

"I think my experience with horse riding has nullified that excuse and yes I have watched those guys and I'm convinced they are incapable of having children." He tried to smile and failed horribly.

Emma stood up and walked around behind him dropping to her knees as she slowly ran her hands across his back alternating between touches that were borderline caresses and a gentle kneading motion.

"This isn't so bad." Will leaned into her touch and Emma led him on placing a few kisses against the back of his neck.

Splaying her hands out evenly between his shoulders she began to push him forward smiling wickedly at his wince.

"It feels great doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Will drew in a ragged breath when she applied more pressure against his back," wonderful."

"Get on your back."

"What?"he was still trying to hide his discomfort.

Emma gripped his shoulders and forcibly pulled him backwards moving out of the way so he landed on the carpet and not her. Chastising him for his inability to follow a simple command without question she crawled along his side until she was kneeling in front of his feet. Taking one foot in her hand she made a show of leaning down further than she had to so the front of her shirt would do the same. Sitting back up she told Will to press against her hand while she placed her other hand around his upper thigh letting it accidently slide down his leg blaming it on the sweatpants when his eyes shot open. She used more strength than she knew she should have covering her smirk with a cough when a rush of air mixed with a sound that resided somewhere between a groan and a hiss neither of which contained any hint of arousal filled the air. Emma apologized and Will squeaked out that he was fine.

Lowering his leg to the ground Emma grabbed onto his other foot and she felt Will tense in preparation. On purpose she told him she would be more careful this time saying she would try a different hand placement so he would relax and unknowingly leave himself vulnerable for her next move. There was absolutely no reason to alter where she put her hand other than the one she had thought of only moments before. She kept one hand on his foot and started to push forward but moved the other to grip his inner thigh just below his knee and once again accidently let it slide down until it ended up right between his legs just to the left of an area she was at the moment avoiding. Ducking her head she did everything in her power to act like she was embarrassed glad that her hair hid the smile that crossed her face when Will breathlessly told her it was okay. Emma couldn't think of anything else to do so she made a joke about being done with his torture session when in reality she was just staring it.

Will tucked his knees to his chest using the couch as a backrest and just as quickly straightened his legs out in front him. In another calculated move Emma sat a few feet in front of him adopting the position that had started this whole game. She loved that Will still didn't know that's what it was.

Emma raised her arms above her head arching to her left stretching her fingers out until she was able to grab her toes lowering her nose to her knee. It hurt a bit because it had been so long since she had done this but no matter how long she went without stretching it was always incredibly easy for her to be able to do things she thought should have been more difficult.

Will whistled, " Wow, that looks beyond painful."

Repeating the stretch but with the opposite leg Emma focused on what she could do next. She knew what she was going to do last. Inspiration struck by the time her ten seconds were up and she laid down on her back raising her leg straight up as she grasped her ankle in both hands and began to pull her leg in towards her face. She had no idea how far she was going to be able to get with this and it was going to painful tomorrow regardless but it was worth it. Making a show of sliding one hand further down to her calf she mentally congratulated herself when she was able to bring her leg within a few inches of her nose. When she did the same with the other leg pretending that she didn't notice her body shift slightly so that her rear was facing Will she heard him clear his throat and it definitely wasn't because he needed to.

Jumping up Emma bounced on the balls of her feet a couple times pretending to have to think about her next stretch. She turned away from Will telling him that she was simply curious to see if she could still get her body to do this. That was a lie. She knew she could. Emma bent over at the waist wrapping her hands around her hands just above her ankles pulling forward so her face stuck out just a little bit past her legs. Keeping her tone light-hearted she called out an enthusiastic "Wow I can still do it! Hi Will!" Even through the hair that was robbing her of some of her vision the hand that was placed over his crotch did not go unnoticed.

She had been intending on doing the splits next but the pain from her recent pose as she stood up caused her to scrap the idea. Laying flat on her stomach once again facing away from Will she pretended do some breathing exercises before sliding backwards onto her knees leaving her butt in the air raising it up just high enough that she could look between her legs at Will.

"Downward dog, it's what you are always supposed to end with for some reason." She flashed him a devilish grin that would be impossible to misinterpret," I don't know how it got such an odd name. Do you?"

Will was shifting uncomfortably before she asked him still trying to hide his arousal. His hand dropped to his side after the question and his eyes darkened.

"You're doing this on purpose." The words were soft and uneven.

"Took you long enough Sherlock," she teased stretching like a cat.

It took mere seconds for Emma to feel his body heat behind her. He wasn't touching her yet and that was torture for her. She bit her lip determined to not let him hear her whimper in frustration.

"I know how it got its name and something tells me that you do to Emma," Hearing him say her name practically drenched with lust caused her to curl her fingers into the carpet.

"…but seeing as I'm supposed to be you're teacher how about I demonstrate instead? Demonstrations are the best way to educate students you know…"

Emma absolutely couldn't pass up this opportunity and she hoped Will wouldn't be offended by it.

"I didn't know that actually. Would you demonstrate for me Mr. Schuester?"

His hands were instantly on her hips pulling her backwards as he thrust forward both of them moaning when their bodies met. Will didn't move away from her but he did remove one hand from her hip. Emma held her breath when she felt his fingers mid-way down her stomach slowly sliding south. He flattened his palm against her and she let out a strangled cry that turned to a frustrated groan when he placed his hand back on her hip far quicker than she had wanted him to. This time he did pull away crashing his hips back into her rear harder than he had the first time and she could feel his arousal hard against her. His hand returned to its previous location lingering longer than it had before. He pushed a finger inside of her as far as her sweatpants would allow.

"Somebody's all wet." He still hadn't moved his finger.

"It's your fault."

"No, I don't think it is. You're the one who started this. This wasn't very nice you know in fact it's bordering on rude if I do say so myself," Emma didn't think his finger could go any further into her but he proved her wrong.

"Part of being an effective educator is knowing when a student is acting up, being disrespectful," his hips bumped lightly against her with that word, "and corporal punishment, although I firmly believe in it, has been banned which unfortunately means we are only left two real options. I'm not a fan of giving detentions I think they are pointless but I do believe in taking things away to get a point across. I've confiscated more cell phones and ipods then I know what to do with."

Somewhere in his narrative that Emma had no idea how she was still comprehending he had began to slide his finger over her clit for the shortest of seconds only to push it up into her again.

"I'm not quite sure what to do in this situation however because I've never had a student be so blatantly disrespectful," Emma groaned when he pushed against her, she was never going to see that word the same way again, "so I'm thinking the wisest course of action is to just wait and see where this goes," his was practically growling the words and she wasn't going to be able to stand this much longer, " Will leaned over her back bringing his lips to her hear speaking sternly, "So I'm not going to do anything yet because sometimes the best thing someone can do is," his voice changed to a whisper that she wouldn't have caught had he not popped the consonant sounds in the first word, "walk away."

Emma collapsed onto the ground when all at once every part of him that was touching her was removed. The tingling between her legs was unbearable and she had to do something about it. Tightening her hold on the carpet she pressed her pelvis into the floor sliding forward a bit before repeating the motion.

Strong hands wrapped around her waist forcing her to stand.

"No, none of that." He voice still held an authoritative edge.

Will pulled her over to the couch telling her no again when she tried to lay on her stomach making her lay on her back with her legs spread slightly. She asked for a blanket and he denied her. She asked for a glass of water and he told her it could wait. Emma gave up and began to lower one of her hands only to have both of her arms end up trapped against her chest by one of Will's. He chastised her again as he turned the TV on. The only evidence of their earlier activities was the bulge that was pressed into her back. When she tried to cause him the same discomfort she was experiencing all she got was a very sharp "Stop it." She obeyed attempting to focus her attention on the channels Will was slowly flipping through. Every once in a while one of his hands would be placed somewhere on her body only to end up between her legs for a half second and disappear. When she moaned his name and literally begged him to touch her Will told her to hush because he didn't want to miss a show that he had read about. Emma returned her attention to the TV thinking that she could care less about some stupid program about a Glee club even if it did have really good music and the incredibly talented, unbelievably sexy Matthew Morrison in the role of the club's director. Vaguely she was aware of Will repeating over and over that something that crazy would never happen in a high school and there was no way the kids would just be able to jump in and know the choreography after the director had passed the song out two seconds before. The one thing Emma did pick up on was the uncanny resemblance between Matthew Morrison's hair and Will's thinking how odd it was that she had never noticed before.

Throughout the entire hour Will never did let her relax. When a song came on which Emma decided happened far too frequently he bucked his hips up every once in a while usually on the beat of one which was a detail she never thought she would have been capable of noticing in her current state. His hands would find various portions of her body tapping out rhythms and at the end of every number his hand would stray between her legs and rub against her a couple times alternating the amount of pressure so she never knew what to expect before he stopped touching her again.

When he quipped something about the effectiveness of a variable schedule of reinforcement Emma vowed that she was going to make him regret what he was putting her through tonight.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts?


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: This will probably be the last speedy (as in pratically consecutive) update as real life aka school commences on Monday and for some reason I have this pile of untouched homework...

This was a blast to write!

**

* * *

****Chapter Twenty-Five**

**Emma's POV**

By the time Emma had seated herself across from Will at the kitchen table she had reached three conclusions. One: She had never spent so long getting ready for work in her life. It was incredibly difficult to do when neither she nor Will could keep their hands to themselves for longer than five minutes. Two: Will was the worst tease and he enjoyed it far too much and three: He should not be able to turn her on as much as he did with mere words.

Reality crept into her arousal as she eyed the pan of breakfast casserole Will had made once before. It looked as terrifying now as it had then. The fact that she dished up her own piece was an accomplishment. The fact that she cut it smaller than he would have was a step away from that accomplishment.

Will had an aggravating knack for picking up on when she nervous no matter how hard she tried to alter her body language and keep her facial expression in check. He got up and walked over to the refrigerator saying that he had forgotten the milk yet curiously opening the freezer. When he sat back down a box of ice cream was in his hand. He looked at it in mock surprise.

"Oops, that wasn't what I meant to grab, although I guess if I let it sit out long enough it would almost be like milk." She had gotten better at reading him too and that tone meant he was planning something.

"Well since I _do_ have it out how about we have a little before I put it back."

Emma watched as he opened the box relieved when he used a spoon to scoop up a small amount out instead of his finger. Will stood bracing one hand on the edge of the table as he brought the spoon to her mouth making airplane noises which left her giggling too much to listen to his childish request. Taking a deep breath she regained her composure and did as he asked her lips automatically closing around the spoon that was instantly inside her mouth. _I'm ingesting dairy. Why is this bothering me? Concentrate on him._

Will withdrew from her personal space and sat back down digging out another bite as he savored his own treat using his tongue to clear off traces she knew weren't there.

"Nothing better than ice cream for breakfast!" Will winked and her mind was flooded with images from their ice cream escapade yesterday.

She only nodded slightly in response because she knew that comment was the end of their banter which meant she was back to what Will had been trying to put her at ease about. The casserole had been forgotten during his attempt but it refused to remain that way.

More than she should have Emma wanted to confess to Will how much this was scaring her. She wanted to tell him about the little things that had been cropping up, the fear, the moment in the bathroom when she had been seconds away from examining her body or the instances when the voice lobbed a snide remark and she longed to not change her mind and say something entirely unrelated. She wanted the comfort of his arms around her as he told her it would be fine as she forced herself to believe him. Emma picked up her fork willing her hand not to shake. _My problem, not his._

_

* * *

_

**Will's POV**

Humming to himself Will slid the pan out of the oven hissing when the dish towel he had grabbed to cover his hand didn't do its job. He never forgot how the melody of a song went and he definitely wasn't one to go slightly flat or sharp every few notes but he was one of those people this morning and the blame rested entirely on the shoulders of the woman seated at the table a few feet away. Once he had discovered how easy it was to rile her up with well-placed comments it had become his mission to keep her that way for the rest of the day even if he usually did consider such interactions inappropriate for the workplace. That belief had been pushed to the curb while others that identified themselves as exciting and daring stole away without a backwards glance.

His ice cream ploy hadn't proved to be that successful in the long run and Emma was eating a little too fast like she didn't want to have to think about what she was doing. She was done in half the time he was. He frowned as she headed towards the sink. _It looked like she was about to say something but thought better of it. I need to stop over-analyzing it's making me paranoid._

He commended himself for keeping his hands on the steering wheel on the drive to work. He complimented himself for continuing the charade by simply planting a kiss on Emma's cheek in the doorway of her office before heading to his.

Will's shoulders slumped when he saw his desk. Sheet music was covering every last inch. As he reluctantly started to examine them he groaned slamming his forehead down harder than he meant to but nonetheless hoping that when he opened his eyes and the pain subsided it would all be gone. Every title page had a star in the corner. Different colored stars. Different colored stars that came with a key so he knew what each one meant. Handwriting was all over the margins all the way down to every last page of every song alternating between scribbled suggestions and capitalized demands which he realized were also multi-colored and merited their own key just to the left of the other. There was even a critique of Brad who apparently kept inserting a G-flat when he was supposed to play a G-sharp and a difficult solo had a certain name next to it. With one swipe Will sent the stress overload fluttering to the ground. Glee was supposed to be his reprieve from the day after hours of brain-dead students repeating Spanish words in a lifeless drone. Glee rehearsal wasn't supposed to betray him like this leaving him devising ways to keep the practice cut to an hour or if he was lucky under an hour. The sole cause being a strong-willed, stubborn brunette that was the walking definition of a diva that now that he thought about it he hoped was too sick to come to school. _She would still come to Glee. She would corner me from a distance probably standing in front of the door with my luck._

The bell rang and Will cursed Rachel's ability to ruin his plans without physically being present. Spanish quizzes that were now over three weeks old were scattered amongst the sheet music. Bending down to gather it all up he noticed "Sorry, Mr. Schue but there are some things more important than grading Spanish quizzes," scrawled across a page. His eyes widened when he noticed that it wasn't even Rachel's and worse, the person it belonged to was a very sweet girl who simply did not grasp anything about the language. _How the hell am I supposed to explain that? Maybe I will accidently lose it._

Giving a student another chance to take a quiz they failed was a perfectly plausible reason for dropping it in the paper shredder. It had nothing to do with what Rachel wrote. He was just a nice guy.

First-period Spanish was the worst. Once he had approached Principal Figgins about the possibility of giving caffeine injections to the students figuring that with some of the antics he allowed Sue to pull off that he might agree. All he had received was a glare and a reprimand for even thinking of shooting kids up with an illegal substance. He wouldn't have done it anyways, not really even if Figgins had given him the okay. Will had tried to point out that caffeine wasn't illegal by drawing the administrator's attention to the coffee mug on his desk. The mug in question and the illegal substance it supposedly contained had walked out with him and Will had yet to see Figgins drink coffee since.

A small knock on the door stopped his futile attempts to drill any of the morning's lesson plan into the bodies before him. Emma had once jokingly told him the vast majority of their brain would be yellow if an fMRI were run. She followed by saying his would be red almost black. Apparently yellow meant little to no activity and red to black meant that section of the brain was firing like crazy. It made sense to him, he felt crazy standing up in front of students talking to himself while he pretended to be addressing them.

Finn was sitting closest to the door and got up to let whoever was interrupting any progress he might have been making in. Will didn't bother to take note of the person until Finn greeted "Ms.P" excitedly saying that she had been missed and definitely needed to come to Glee rehearsal this afternoon. Now, Will was paying attention because she had never intruded on one of his classes before. She was gone before he could say anything and his attention was drawn from the empty doorway to a note Finn placed in the palm of his hand telling him that it was some sort of announcement he was required to make. Will sighed and decided that evil forces determined to not let him teach anything were aligning somewhere in the cosmos.

Unfolding the paper he began to read, "Last ni-," and promptly pretended to be overcome with a coughing fit trying to buy himself time to come up with a cover.

"Last semester," he began again, "the grades in Spanish One left something to be… desired." _Bad word choice and semester sounds nothing like night. Smooth, very smooth._

Not only had Emma just hit him below the belt again about his teaching abilities but she had also almost mortified him in front of students who would have spontaneously started paying attention as he took whatever iota of respect they might have had for his position as their teacher and chucked it out the window, indefinitely.

He hastily shoved the pink post-it note into his pocket before turning around to continue the chart he had been drawing concentrating extra hard on making the lines straight. It wasn't working. That sentence was burned into his mind which was probably black in certain areas. Areas related to arousal and lust and plotting revenge.

"_Last night you weren't very nice and you're going to pay for that mister, or should I call you Mr. Schuester since you are in class and hopefully you had enough sense to stop reading by now."_

_

* * *

_**Emma's POV**

Emma grinned wickedly as she walked away from Will's classroom feeling a fleeting twinge of regret in case he actually did read the entire sentence out loud. He would never live that down. It would be passed on from student to student, grade-level to grade-level, from outgoing students to incoming ones and the only reason her regret might become more than fleeting is if they remembered that she was the one who brought him the note.

An electronic tone indicated the end of first period and Emma had completely forgotten that second hour was Will's free period until a balled up scrap of pink paper landed smack dab in the center of the letter of recommendation she had been working on for the pasty forty minutes. Brushing it away she continued to write until a hand closed around hers forcing her to draw sloppy circles and crooked lines all over what was going to be the last sentence.

"Will, I've been working on-"

"I don't care, it serves you right. You, "he emphasized the word, "almost caused me to do something that would have caused irreparable damage to my reputation which wasn't very nice, bordering on disrespectful if I do say so myself." A corner of his mouth turned up while he stared directly into her eyes.

Disrespectful was never going to be a simple word with a prefix ever again. Emma forced her features to take on the appearance of confusion saying that she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Oh I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, "he motioned to the waded paper ball with a tilt of his head.

Will stood up and walked around the desk that separated them briefly glancing out the window as he placed his hands on either side of her nipping at her ear as he began to recite what she had written inserting his own changes as he went along.

"What you just did was not very nice and you're going to pay for that missy, or should I say Ms. Pillsbury since you are at work and hopefully you have enough sense to realize what you just started."

Her mouth parted slightly when Will nipped her ear again tugging playfully and dropped open completely when he brushed past her without another word or even a look over his shoulder.

_I know what I started and somehow I am going to do something you would never expect me to. _

Emma had no idea how she was going to stun Will and probably herself as well. Lately she had been partaking in things that she never dreamed she would have and watching Will's reactions had caused her free-time to be riddled with possible scenarios. Feelings this intense had never been in her life before and there were only magnified when she thought about her confession the other night.

Signing her name at the bottom of her fifth re-write of a letter of recommendation she now had memorized Emma proudly placed it safely in a green folder labeled "Letters of Recommendation." At least something was in its rightful place today. Emma glanced at the hands on the clock above her door it was fourth period which meant there was only one more hour before lunch.

"Ms. P, could I maybe talk to you about something?"

Finn was standing in her doorway fidgeting like he always did before he walked into her office. Emma motioned him in telling him not to worry about whatever it was he wanted to discuss because she had heard everything.

"I'm worried about Mr. Schue, he seemed really…off after you dropped by to give him that note."

_This isn't happening. I know it isn't because this is Finn and he exists in a perpetual state of oblivion. Sorry Finn._

She would have offered him a small smile and told him how great it was that he was so concerned about the well-being of his teacher if she hadn't been trying to discretely slide the note Finn was referring to off of her desk.

When it finally went over the edge she refocused her attention on the teen only to see the wad roll across the carpet along the side of her desk to stop by Finn's foot and Emma was without a doubt absolutely positive this situation could not get any more compromising.

When the note started to unfold she retracted that and decided that there was always a more compromising situation waiting just around the corner. _How does a piece of paper roll across carpet and out of nowhere start to unfold?_

She wasn't quick enough either with words or movements to stop Finn from picking it up and she knew he was only being nice but right now she wished he wasn't. The paper fell open as soon as his fingers closed around and his eyes widened before they shot up to her and just as quickly returned to the ground as he chucked the paper onto her desk.

"…um…you know it's no big deal really. I think he's just…stressed…sectionals and all." Finn was gone before Emma had fully registered the events that had just unfolded brought about because of the incriminating piece of evidence that had unfolded first.

* * *

Will breezed into her office with a two brown paper bags and a genuine smile as he told her that he didn't think it was possible to miss someone so much when he was in the same building as them. She tried to feel warm and fuzzy at his flattery but the only thing she was feeling was the unwelcome sensation of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach when he began to set food out between them.

_Apple, safe. Orange juice, safe. Chocolate chip cookies, unsafe. Chicken Alfredo pasta, more than unsafe. What am I doing? Stop it, okay distraction. Think of a distraction._

"Finn read the note," she blurted out loudly.

"Nice try Em, you're getting good at this. You had me goin' for a sec." He gave her a thumbs-up as he dropped the now empty bags to the floor.

"Will, I'm serious, he read the note."

His smile faltered and disappeared completely when she told him about how Finn had come to visit saying he was worried and that when she tried to push the note off of her desk afraid he might recognize the paper it had rolled across the floor and unfolded as he picked it up. There was a cautious skepticism written all over Will's face as he asked if she was sure he had actually read it.

"He mumbled that you were just probably stressed and ran out. He read it."

"Oh my God how am I supposed to face him in rehearsal today? I was already dreading having to deal with Rachel. She doesn't seem so bad next to this. I'm going to have to talk to him about a solo, help him with dance moves and hopefully avoid having to look him In the eye while doing all of that. We're going to be in the same room…" Will leaned back in his chair placing one hand on his forehead running it through his hair.

"You have no room to talk. I was _alone_ with him and less than a foot away as he read something that will probably traumatize him for life. That trumps anything you will have to put with in Glee."

The sound of Will's laugh as he agreed and simultaneously poked fun at her attempt to work him up ending in the robbing of a student's innocence made her forget her aversion to the food on her desk as she latched onto an apple and threw it at him. Will didn't move probably due to her stellar history of never hitting her target no matter how close she was. Emma sat back triumphantly when it slammed into his forehead as he nearly fell out of his chair when he jumped at the unexpected impact.

A playful smile tugged at his lips when he told her she was going to pay for that and Emma couldn't believe that he was still being so suggestive after everything that had just happened. He took a bite of his pasta slurping a stray noodle into his mouth as he raised his eyebrows at her licking his lips slowly to get any remaining sauce.

That was all it took for Emma to dismiss the incident with Finn for the moment and refocus her thoughts figuring out how to render William Schuester speechless until the man that in her mind was currently pressed against a wall in a darkened auditorium told her that she was running out of time and had better eat up.

Remembering breakfast she started with the apple nibbling away making sure to talk about how good it was. Next was the orange juice which although caused her to grimace when the liquid stretched her stomach more than she was comfortable with she would have drank two gallons to avoid the remaining item. She engaged Will in more conversation, asking him about sectionals and how Josh was fitting in. Occasionally she slipped in a flirty expression all in the name of distraction as she poked her fork aimlessly into the pasta. By the time the bell rang she had managed to consume less than half lying when Will asked why telling him she had been too absorbed in what he was saying as she wondered why she was doing any of this to begin with. There was nothing visible in his nod that made Emma think he didn't believe her before he gathered up the containers leaving hers behind and headed off to another group of foreign-language impaired teenagers.

Emma didn't have any more scheduled appointments for the afternoon and as she was left alone with thoughts she didn't want to entertain she hoped for a walk-in and she didn't care if it was Finn.

It was all starting gradually just like it had in the beginning but she was aware of it this time. She knew the warning signs and recognized every single one as it slowly re-entered her life. Pulling a sticky note from a nearby stack she wrote down everything she could remember about her behavior when the eating disorder had been at its worst checking off the ones that she was starting to notice now. It took eleven post-it notes and there were probably things she hadn't thought of but it was reassuring that only four items had a slash through them so she crumpled all of the bright pink rectangles into a heap and slid them into the trash because if only four things out of a list of over thirty were crossed off it wasn't that big of a deal and she was getting worked up over nothing.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Standing just outside the door Will decided that it couldn't hurt to get to practice before everyone else. Students were starting to flood the halls racing around making plans for the evening and there was a strong chance he might bump into Finn. Turning the handle he stepped in automatically glancing to the risers as if someone would actually be there.

_No way._

The exchange between him and the teen as they tried to make small talk while intently studying whatever they could find to avoid having to look at each other was filled with far too many pauses and he was absolutely positive it was never going to end. When the door started to open he wanted to jump for joy and wrap his arms around the student who was unknowingly going to save him from what was the most awkward moment in his teaching career to date.

* * *

**Finn's POV**

Some alien life form must have taken over his body because he didn't remember anything after reading that note in Ms. Pillsbury's office, the note that was meant for Mr. Schue's eyes only, the note that contained the sentence that had told him far too much about their personal lives. Finn was genuinely happy that they had finally gotten together. He just didn't care to know that they had literally gotten together.

Shaking his head to maybe jar the picture of Ms. P's writing out of his mind Finn glanced around the choir room. He was here a full fifteen minutes earlier than he needed to be because he had caught sight of Mr. Schue down the hall and this was the nearest escape. Weird stares were going to be thrown his way when the others trickled in because he was always late.

The door creaked slightly and Finn looked over to see who the first questioner would be when his eyes met Mr. Schue's. Finn froze immediately focusing his attention anywhere than where it had just been noticing absently that the series of cracks in the risers between his feet looked mysteriously like the face of Jesus.

_No way, about Mr. Schue, not _riser_-crack Jesus. Why am I explaining my own thoughts to myself?_

He was incapable of putting more than two words together as he stuttered on about how football practice was going keeping his eyes riveted to riser-crack Jesus so there wasn't even the slightest chance he might catch a glimpse of the man on the other side of the room.

Mr. Schue was his favorite teacher. Mr. Schue was his favorite teacher who he now knew was banging Ms. P and from what he had been unfortunate enough to read, being a tease about it.

Another creak caused both of them to glance hopefully at the door. Finn couldn't see who it was yet but he was on the verge of bolting over there to thank them profusely for removing him from this situation. Out of the corner of his eye he did notice Mr. Schue's mouth drop open which he thought was a really weird way to greet a student even if it was probably Rachel until Ms. P walked in.

By the time the older man mumbled an excuse that even he wasn't gullible enough to fall for as he started to practically shove Ms. P out the door the whole thing was hands-down the most awkward moment out of his entire school career and that was saying a lot for him.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Biting her lip as she stood just outside the choir room door Emma deeply regretted promising to come watch the kids this afternoon. She had caught sight of Will entering the classroom from across the hall and although it was strangely early for him she was always prompt and maybe getting in before all the kids would calm her nerves. _And maybe Finn will have gone home sick._

Pushing the door open Emma smiled at Will frowning when his mouth fell open in a look that she could only describe as a combination of disbelief and horror. His eyes darted quickly to the left as she started to move towards him following his subtle hint only to find Finn sporting the same expression. It was obvious from the distance between them that their encounter hadn't been planned either.

Emma was instantly as immobile as the two men in the room in what was officially the most awkward moment in her career as a guidance councilor and her OCD and Mysophobia had landed her in some pretty embarrassing situations.

She practically hugged Will when he said he forgot some music. All three of them knew it was a lie but not one of them cared. Will grabbed her by the shoulder turning her around and whispering for her to please get the door just before Rachel slammed into both of them immediately demanding to know if Will had looked through the songs she left on his desk as she threw a casual grin in her direction and effectively blocked their only means of escape.

Smiling in return Emma forced Will to take a couple steps back so the brunette could walk in. Rachel wouldn't have been her first choice but considering the circumstances she was in no position to be picky. The other students came barreling in shortly after all of them asking how she was doing while Mercedes enveloped her in a Mercedes-style hug not letting go until Will gently pulled her away. Emma didn't miss the fact that even though he was looking at the young woman he was laughing at her.

Reluctantly she sat next to Rachel only because the chair was the farthest away from Finn who she had not even dared to glance at. Will greeted everyone and Emma was relieved when he started to talk because it meant she could stare directly at him and nothing else. He, just like she was, never turned his head in the direction of Finn. Will was like a typewriter, every time his gaze started wander to that side of the room it snapped back. Emma and everyone else looked up with questioning eyes when Will told the class that they could work on helping each other with choreography when Rachel pointed out that Finn was not catching on to anything. Hastily he added that he would gladly go over the songs she left on his desk if she would run and get them which Emma had to give him credit for. It did distract the teenager who had clearly been moments away from suggesting that he help Finn get caught up although the fact that he had just willingly subjected himself to Rachel and her opinions left her puzzled. Briefly his eyes found hers and conveyed only one message, that yes he really was that desperate.

_I bet I can make you more desperate, a different kind of desperate._

Moving up a row so that her back was against the mirror she called out that the song the kids were performing sounded great. She had no idea how the song was sounding let alone what it was called she only wanted Will to look at her. The second he did Emma smirked and raised her eyebrows pretending to scratch he knee allowing her skirt to move up just a tad as she removed her hand. Will continued to watch her, his eyes boring holes into her body. While she didn't know anything about the song she had been taking note of the dance moves watching for the ones that would work to her advantage. When the girls turned around so that they were facing her with flirty expressions and a sensual come hither motion that must have fit into the lyrics somehow Emma stood up and mimicked them grinning when Rachel and Quinn burst into a fit of giggles while Mercedes shouted out "Damn girl, why you been holdin' out on us? You got some moves!"

Mercedes stopped dancing and took a few steps towards the bottom row of risers, "Okay, now I wanna see what you can do so copy me got it?"

Mercedes placed her hands on her hips and began to circle them to the beat of the music. For a moment Emma considered acting awkward and uncoordinated but she wanted to impress the girl and torture Will. Pretending to watch Mercedes' movements very carefully Emma rotated her hips in a few times before risking to sneak a peek at Will. He was leaning against the piano and for all intents and purposes it appeared that he was simply watching the kids in front of him until Emma noticed that his eyes were riveted on her torso.

Asking Mercedes to give her something else to try she watched and this time did bulk a little after the teenager had finished.

"Alright Ms. P, if you can do that then I am officially impressed and that don't happen easy."

While she usually backed down from direct challenges especially when they made her uneasy this one was worth it and even if she did screw it up horribly Will would still probably be turned on. She had a feeling he already was.

Thankful that the song was as long as it was Emma bent over at her waist wincing a bit from the stretching yesterday and in time with the song shook her head from side to side feeling her hair fly out. Just like Mercedes had she gripped her legs just above her knee repeating the head-toss four times. Emma began to straighten up letting her hands trail up her torso and over her chest before they fisted in her hair pulling it up almost as though it were in a pony tail. She locked her eyes on Will keeping her mouth partially open and her face tilted down so she was having to look up to see him. Much to her amusement she noticed that an irritated Rachel was waving sheet music in his face and to an outsider it probably looked like his increased breathing rate was the result of frustration, from Rachel anyways. Noticing that Rachel was about to turn to see what was distracting Will Emma quickly sat down smiling sweetly at the girl. She laughed as Will held up a finger to cut Rachel off when she whirled back around as he far too quickly sat down behind the piano.

The number ended and Emma glowered at Will when he took away her fun by telling the kids, including Rachel, to turn and face the mirror saying that since they actually had one they should use it once in a while. The band started an upbeat piece and Emma focused her attention on the kids. _At least he can't do anything back, not with the mirror behind me._

Emma waited for him to look at her before she mouthed, "I win."

It wasn't even twenty seconds into the song before Will pushed the bench he was sitting on out from behind the piano scooting it so it was along the side instead. He straddled it propping one elbow on his knee with his chin in his palm while his other hand rested between his legs on top of the lid. Emma disguised her grin by winking at Mercedes when she did one of the moves she had just done herself knowing that Will wouldn't be able to do anything else without running the risk of getting caught. The grin fell from her face and she instantly felt a heat starting to pool between her legs when Will's thumb lazily traced circles along the surface of the piece of furniture he was sitting on. Quickly she realized her miscalculation. If anyone were to look at him all he would have to do is wipe the lustful smirk off his face and they wouldn't give how he was sitting or what he was doing a second thought.

She endured two more bouts of torture set to music as Will found increasingly clever ways to hide sexual gestures under the guise of commonplace occurrences. He had pulled his shirt out from his pants and loosened his tie while he had practically devoured her with his eyes. Next he had taken a long drink of water from the bottle beside him on the piano and purposefully allowed some to spill down his chest. Emma had figured he would stop there but he just set the bottle on the floor and rubbed his hand over the damp streak lowering it until he grabbed himself so briefly that if she hadn't been paying such close attention she would have missed it as he mouthed that he was winning.

_No you're not._

Hoping one of the kids didn't prove to be a shelter-belt to the proverbial wind she was throwing her caution into Emma returned his silent statement with one of her own.

_Fuck you Will._

Even Emma was impressed by how fast he stood up, kicked the piano bench back to where it was supposed to be and sat down scooting as far forward as he possibly could no longer looking at her. The last song was finally over and the kids excitedly ran out the door calling out good-byes. Will's own good-bye had been weak and strained and the entire time he never did stand up. In Emma's opinion the best part of the entire afternoon was Rachel running up to hug him from behind for giving her a solo she said she wouldn't let him down on. Will had been completely clueless but Emma was privy to everything and the look of panic on his face as Rachel's arms wrapped around his waist was priceless.

As soon as the door clicked closed behind Rachel Will was across the room and standing on the back row of risers inches away from her. There was nothing but pure, raw lust in his eyes as he pushed her against the mirror crashing his lips against hers before he started blazing a trail down her neck. Roughly he pulled the collar of her shirt aside and Emma cried out sharply when he sunk his teeth into her skin. This wasn't a playful nip. What he was doing to her right now could only be described as biting. Will slowly released her from between his teeth sucking hard at the spot that still stung pulling away just enough to tell her that he wanted to show the world that she was his before his mouth returned to her skin. Will pinned her between himself and the mirror with his hips as he continued to alternate between licking and nipping. They were both breathing heavily when he pulled himself away from her. Will rested his forehead against hers lust replaced with love as he told her they needed to get going to make it to their therapy sessions on time. Just as they were going to head out the door Will stopped.

"That looks like Finn's book bag. I hope he doesn't need anything."

* * *

**Finn's POV**

He was almost out the last set of doors separating him from the sexual tension he felt had physically assaulted him and blessed freedom where he was going to watch good, clean cartoons for hours on end and write a paper he couldn't put off any longer.

_Paper. Book bag. Shit._

Finn cursed as he did an about turn just as his hand closed around the handle that would lead him to a careless world of Bugs bunny reruns and back into the alternate universe that was too messed up to even merit a Twilight Zone episode.

He hated being in the school after everyone else had left. Everything was creepy when it was quiet even if the lights were still on and a few teachers remained holed up in their rooms pretending to grade papers while they chatted on facebook.

Concentrating on not screaming like a girl when the hall lights were turned off he quickly opened the door to the choir room. Never in a million years would he admit to anyone that he was always afraid something was going to jump him from behind when he was in the dark. He could see his book bag about six feet away and apparently Mr. Schue had forgotten to turn off the lights not that he minded right now.

Finn kept his eyes trained on his target until he heard someone whisper. Fear surged through him as he stilled trying to figure out who could be in the choir room and why they would be whispering and most importantly what they were saying. He squeezed his eyes closed listening as hard as he could before he alerted whoever it was to his presence by bolting out the door in a less than graceful manner.

"I want to show the whole world that your mine."

Swallowing hard at the threat that had sounded low, throaty and menacing Finn very cautiously turned his head in the direction it had originated from.

_I'm not seeing this. It's a bad dream, a dream that will leave me scarred for life but it's a dream and Mr. Schue is standing on top of riser-crack Jesus in this dream._

Mr. Schue had Ms. P backed against the mirror that Finn was never going to be able to look at the same way again and was biting and sucking on her neck. It felt like he was paralyzed until the sight of his teacher grinding his pelvis against the woman beneath him combined with a whimper that Finn wouldn't forget for the rest of his life forced him into action, reverse action.

_Screw it…bad word choice…It's not like I was going to actually write the paper anyways. Besides I'm pretty sure that if I walked in to Mr. Schue's office tomorrow and told him that I had forgotten my book bag in the choir room and then conveniently let slip that I saw him practically dry-fucking Ms. P against the mirror he would let it slide but I could never say that and I'm going to get an F and Bugs bunny reruns just aren't going to cut it anymore._

Finn didn't even notice this time as he finally made it outdoors walking aimlessly as his thoughts swirled around everything he had unintentionally learned and nothing teachers had attempted to make him learn. Mr. Schue and Ms. P were getting it on, Mr. Schue was a tease, Ms. P was a tease and clearly not as innocent as she came off as and Mr. Schue was not as gentle as he led people to believe in class and he had definitely been sporting a hard-on when he sat behind the piano.

_I need disinfectant for my brain. _

_

* * *

_

**Emma's POV**

Any hint of sexual tension was abolished as soon as they set foot into the lobby. There were running late thanks to Will's hands and Emma had barely had a chance to sit down before Dan came out to get her warm smile at the ready. Trailing behind him Emma started formulating responses to questions she might be fielded and if Dan would have read her thoughts and turned to ask her why she wouldn't have been able to tell him.

"How are you today Emma? I hope Virginia wasn't too stressful." Soft and soothing just like always.

"I'm good, good, Virginia, Virginia was great, except for the whole being there to get my stuff because my mom died thing." Emma paused that did not sound like her at all.

"Well let's start with the good then."He was as good at prompting as Will which had Emma contemplating causality.

"It was relaxing for the most part if you detract the one-sided fist fight between Will and my brother. He's never been the nicest to me and something he said while I was eating set Will off. I've never had anyone stand up for me like that before."

"Here comes the cliché but it's a valid question. How did that make you feel?" Dan was chuckling behind his hand slightly.

Emma couldn't keep a straight face when she asked someone that either.

"It was…exhilarating. I wanted to cry because I couldn't believe that someone cared about me that much. So much that they, Will, that he would risk being hurt because he couldn't stand that my brother's words had hurt me. My brother backed down and he never did say anything mean the rest of the time I was there although he was conveniently gone a lot after that and I know Mr. Benson's fence isn't that bad."

"What happened after that?"

_Will came upstairs to say he was sorry and I threw myself at him and we ended up on the bed and it was wonderful until the alarm went off. _

"We went to a line dance."

Emma gave a brief rundown of her love of line dancing and Will's numerous misfortunes including the one that ended up with him on his butt. They discussed other things about the trip and Emma tried to keep it light-hearted talking about the barrel racing or the ride Will had drug her on. She was working very hard to keep things above the surface when the man across from her was trained to delve below it.

"What about food? How's that been going?" Dan questioned gently.

"Really good actually, it's a lot easier to eat things than it used to be. I don't have to work as hard. The other day I even had ice cream."

She had added the last as an afterthought because it sounded like progress and if she thought about it she had made progress just not in the way Dan was probably thinking.

"Oh? How did that come about? Why ice cream?"

_I'm definitely not telling you that._

"Will wanted some, he's like a five-year old sometimes and he wouldn't leave me alone until I tried some." _Or something like that._

"He's good at getting you to do things you aren't comfortable with. He's a pretty special guy. You're lucky and I hope the ice cream was good. I love ice cream. I'm a traditionalist though, favorite flavor is vanilla."

Emma cleared her throat, "Really? That's funny because that's what we had and it tasted really good. _Better than good and we didn't just have ice cream._

"Has the voice been bothering you at all lately?" He was watching her intently and Emma wasn't sure she liked it.

"It hasn't for a few weeks, it was around when I was at home but that was only because of what I was doing. It's left me alone during meal times for a while now." _Details I need details._

"This morning Will made a breakfast casserole that the last time I could barely eat but I didn't have a problem with it today. I even had more than one piece." _Could have done better with the details._

She was getting nervous and she could tell by the way Dan was looking at her from over the top of his glasses that he knew it.

"How about after everything this weekend, how are you holding up on that front?"

Emma had completely spaced off spur of the moment Saturday appointment. It was the truth when she told him she had all but forgotten about it because really she had.

Dan slyly glanced down at his watch and Emma did the same with the clock. The hour had gone by surprisingly fast considering she didn't think she had talked that much. Stopping in front of Will with Dan next to her she smiled playfully punching him in the stomach as he stood up. Settling into the dent his body had left in the cushion Emma ignored the lies she had just told.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"You have a certain unmistakable glint in your eyes." There was an unmistakable knowing glint in Dan's eyes and Will knew he had just been caught.

He was still trying to figure out how to respond when Dan waved him off saying that he really didn't need to know but it was nice to have a guy to talk with once in a while because most of his clients were women. Will had nodded in understanding when he mentioned the outrageous sexual harassment protocols. They were ten times worse in schools.

"So she told me Virginia was good, that it was relaxing, mentioned something about you punching her brother I believe. If I remember correctly you are neither adept at riding horses or line dancing and you didn't know barrel racing could be something other than that done with horses. Missing anything?"

_Yes, a lot of things actually. Why didn't she tell him anything? I knew she wouldn't talk about Gates but I thought she would have talked about the other…stuff._

Will found himself rememorizing the carpet as he told Dan that he was missing a lot.

"The first day there she wanted to listen to her ipod and I let her until I realized she was doing it to avoid having to deal with the reasons we were there. She said it was too quiet and then she broke down. I felt horrible. I can't imagine what she felt like walking into her room and seeing all of her stuff and some of her mom's boxed up like that. I've never thought about my parents dying as much as I have now. I never want to go through what Emma did and that's a selfish thing to say but everyone's selfish now and again I guess."

Taking a breath he thought about what it would be like to walk into his mother's house never knowing what would be gone next, about it what it would be like to box up her clothes or books, about how it would feel like he was compartmentalizing her box by box to another time in his life.

"We had some food issues."

Dan jumped in before Will could elaborate stating that Emma had told him she was doing really well with food, that it was easier to eat and that just this morning she had eaten a second piece of the casserole he had made. Will didn't hear anything after that.

_She didn't have a second piece. _

Flipping the tables Will asked if Emma had said anything the voice and whether or not it had been present. He knew that it was at times because the expression on her face as she stared at food when it was talking was something he had learned to read like a book. She had been fighting with it their first night in Virginia with the chicken and through almost every other meal out there except the one on the hay bale. His worry about it had subsided somewhat this morning. Emma had looked nervous but it hadn't appeared to have been anything that serious because she ate…one piece, not two. There was the spheghettios thing but he wasn't going to bring that up. He didn't know what had caused her to run to the bathroom but he chose to believe her when she said she hadn't been thinking about throwing up. He needed to believe her on something.

"She said it was around a bit in Virginia but that was it." There was a cautious tint to his voice like he was drawing the same conclusion that Will was, that maybe Emma wasn't being entirely truthful.

_I need to get this out before I lose my nerve._

"I found some emails in a folder when I was helping Emma go through boxes. She said they were between her and a guy who had been almost like a father to her from junior high through high school. She was completely clueless about them. It was some weird virtual trip where they both add a piece to the story and the other continues it. The things that he said were not appropriate at all and yet Emma was convinced it was harmless. I read her parts where he very directly alluded to having sex, where he," Will's grip on the arm of the couch tightened, "stepped out of the story to say things no one in their thirties should ever to say to a sixteen year old and even after everything that happened I would bet anything that Emma would forgive him in a heartbeat and go running back."

"Don't ask, I'll just keep going," Will stopped the question that was on Dan's lips," We went into town, I'll get into that reason later, and we bumped into this guy. I tried to get Emma to let me go along or not go at all but she wouldn't listen so I took her to a park, watched as she ran towards the guy I had just seen hug her far to intimately and drove away. I fucking drove away. Why the hell did I do that? I knew that was a bad situation. I _knew_ it and I left her there."

Will stopped trying to reign in his mounting anger so he could continue noticing that Dan must be a quick learner because there was no prompting.

"I made her take her phone and hide it. I was getting groceries when she called and all I wanted to do was call the police but I couldn't hang up. I heard him say…that he wasn't going to lose the chance to do something he had wanted to do for years. That wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was when he asked her if she could feel what she was doing to him. That was when I lost it. I couldn't think. I don't know how I managed to get to that park because I don't even remember the drive now. I tackled him. I punched him. I broke some ribs and I wanted to destroy him for hurting her. I've never felt that much rage for another human being. I didn't even know I could feel that way. It's scary you know, "Will looked up," when you realize that everything you have told yourself for years about what you would do in certain situations was just a stream of meaningless words. When you realize that you really are capable of turning into the person you said you would never be. I always told myself I would never fall prey to my emotions like that but I swear if that cop hadn't torn me away from him…"

He wasn't going to say that. Saying what he was scared he might have done if he hadn't been stopped would uncover a part of his nature that he wanted to be left buried. He was a teacher, he taught Spanish and directed a Glee club and he shouldn't still feel the way he did about Marshall Gates.

"It's normal. A normal reaction to being threatened, you like dogs, they react when provoked. An attack or violent outburst in your case is never random. There are always signs, yours were there they were just submersed in rage. Your heart rate picked up, your palms started sweating, your eyes dilated and your body prepared for action by flooding your system with adrenaline. What you did, what you felt, there is nothing wrong with that. If someone would have gone after my wife like that and a cop hadn't come along I would be able to finish that sentence you left open. On the same token if the cop was there and he did pull me off I would still be feeling the same anger and rage right now. It's just like a dog's reaction Will. If one dog is threatened by another they will go through a whole plethora of behaviors before they resort to violence and when they do, if they are broke up, when they see each other again they will pick up right where they left off." Dan's voice was blessedly calm.

"I wish more dog owner's thought like you," he joked because he couldn't be serious not when he was so afraid of the side of himself that had held that man against a tree with only one thing in mind.

Dan didn't say anything after his quip and Will assumed that it was probably because it hadn't sounded humorous but rather tired and defeated.

"Let's switch topics," Dan paused obviously trying to think of what to say.

_That's okay I have a whole variety of issues to choose from over here. _

"She overheard me telling a co-worker I was afraid she was going to die and the night before last she said she was ready to have sex."

_Those two issues were not supposed to be combined._

"That's…a unique pairing I guess." Dan chuckled softly and lightened the mood just as effectively as he had on Saturday.

Will calmly explained that they hadn't talked about either issue much relieved when Dan said they could address the first one as a group. The relief was short-lived and fizzled when Dan asked Will what he thought about the second part.

_Could I get away with saying "I'm a guy. What do you think I thought?" No, I couldn't and I wouldn't because I'm not that kind of guy._

"I asked her if she was sure and told her to just ask if she had questions and made her promise to tell me if she changed her mind."

"What would she have questions about?" The calming effect of Dan's voice was lost when he was hopelessly cornered.

_How can I talk my way out of this without telling him more than Emma probably wants him to know?_

"Just general questions, nothing specific."

_That really wasn't an answer for what he asked and this isn't going to get me anywhere._

"Therapist-client confidentiality requested please." He sounded snobbish on purpose.

Through a smile Dan told him that his request had officially been granted. Will took a deep breath and prepared for some sort of apocalypse once the word "virgin" left his mouth. Nothing that he had been thinking about happened. The building was still standing and more importantly Dan wasn't laughing or if he was he was doing an incredible job at hiding it.

"So it's a big deal for both of you, have you?" _If there was ever a sentence that didn't require an ending that was it._

Will kicked around whether or not he should talk about this before it sunk in that he really didn't have another guy to discuss these things with and if he didn't start the ball rolling now when something happened that he really wanted advice about it would only be ten times more embarrassing to bring up in a session because the ice would be two-feet thick.

Not for one second had Will allowed himself to believe that a physical relationship with Emma would magically happen with no complications. There were going to be things they would have to work their way through. Balancing her desires with his was going to take time. Getting her up to the point where she felt comfortable letting him try different things would take more time and convincing her that she shouldn't feel bad if she wasn't okay with something he was doing would probably take forever. When all of that was successfully navigated he was left with larger, much more delicate issues.

"So, what was the ice cream for?"

He tried control his reaction but his eyes widened against his wishes. _How the hell?_

"She blushed," Dan supplied, "people don't blush when they talk about eating ice cream unless it involved…more than eating. I'm not asking for details, I don't want details but whose idea was it?"

Grinning Will chose the couch over Dan's face, "It was hers actually. She was standing in the store, oh I got her to go grocery shopping by the way, and I could tell she wanted some. I never thought…I just assumed her hesitation was due to it being a dairy product and I guess that was some of it…"

Telling Dan not to ask an obvious question earlier was working in his favor now. He hated having to pause all the time to listen to something he already had an answer lined up for.

"I didn't expect her to go through with it but she did more than I ever dreamed she would." Will worked to not let his mind wander.

"Will how many guy friends do you have to just sit around and bluntly discuss stuff like this with?" _Would he count Sue?_

"…none." _That's embarrassing._

"So as a self-appointed friend if I were to ask you if it was good what would you say?" Dan sounded uneasy this time and Will knew they had more of a friendship then the labels of therapist and client allotted.

"I would say it was fucking amazing." Dan returned his hundred-watt smile with a hearty chuckle and Will relaxed into the couch because it hadn't dawned on him until just then how much he wanted someone to talk to like this about her.

"That, or anything else won't get back to her right?" if there was even a chance he wasn't doing this.

"Never, I would suggest meeting somewhere…normal like a bowling alley or something but they frown on that kind of interaction actually they would frown on this interaction but at least they won't randomly stumble upon us because there is only one door." Dan winked and Will laughed harder than he had all day which was a pretty amazing accomplishment considering.

"She's adorably innocent about a lot of things and yet so forward. It's the strangest contrast, not that I'm complaining of course. She," Will tried to keep his voice steady," wrote this note and delivered it to my class and had a student tell me it was something I had to announce. I'm never going to blindly read anything from her without skimming first, it saved my neck today." He knew Dan was curious so he carried on.

"She gave me a hard time about being a tease basically but it was clear enough that if I would have read it out loud I would forever be that one teacher that students spend the entire class period staring at as they write on the board while wondering about their sex life. I don't want to be that teacher. The thought of even one student knowing anything about any of that is disturbing enough let alone a whole class." _Thank God all Finn has to work with is a sentence._

Dan was unsuccessfully trying to stifle his laughter with his hand and resorted to slapping his knee instead. Will was enjoying this, friendly conversation. Heavy issues left behind just because they could be.

"Oh wait, it gets so much worse. You won't believe this but one of my Glee kids read the note."

He waited for Dan to regain control before he launched into the rest of his story.

"This, this is sit-com worthy. I could write a show I swear. I went into the choir room early to avoid Finn and he was already there. I have never been so embarrassed in my life and I deeply regret that as an adult you lose the option to just run away from an awkward situation. When the door opened we were both relieved and it turned out to be Emma," Will had to take a couple deep breaths to hold his laughter at bay," So anyways there we are, Finn and I still hadn't looked at each other and I don't know about him but I was wishing for a freak natural disaster, Emma walks in and I finally have the idea to make up an excuse which I know no one believed and just as we were about to walk out another Glee student comes barreling in and stands right in front of the door as she asked whether or not I had read the music she left on my desk. She's…dedicated to say the least."

"So did either of you ever get out?" Will could tell by Dan's expression that he was surprised that was comprehensible through his laughter.

"Nope, we were stuck, wasn't so bad though." _Annoying as hell that there was a group of singing and dancing teenagers between us but definitely not bad._

"There's more to that isn't there." Dan was grinning knowingly.

"Let's just say that we both like to tease and leave it at that."

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Hearing Will's laughter Emma looked up to find him gesturing wildly with his hands as he walked in step with Dan a care-free, childish expression on his face. It was great they got along so well, they almost seemed like real friends instead of a therapist and their client.

It was more than evident by the time they got to the car that Will was more than frisky and Emma was leery of being trapped in front seat with him. His hands were everywhere and she hoped the fact that he would need them to steer the car would preserve her sanity even if he would probably slaughter it as soon as the front door closed.

Twenty-seven seconds.

It only took Will's right hand twenty-seven seconds to wander into her lap as soon as he turned onto a relatively straight road. Emma watched as it traveled from her knee underneath the bottom of her skirt grinning when it proved too unforgiving for him to get anywhere.

Emma leaned her head back letting her eyes close as the motion of the car soothed her into a semi-conscious state. The warm hand that was part way up her thigh disappeared and reappeared on her hip as Will's fingers left gentle caresses in their wake. Her eyes shot open when those fingers found the zipper to her skirt. She would probably have whiplash from how quickly she turned her head when she felt another hand.

"Hey look Em. No hands," Will spoke softly as he held the steering wheel between his knees successfully unhooking the clasp above her zipper and pulling it down with an evil grin.

Her body obeyed of its own accord after he returned one hand to the steering wheel and told her to slide her skirt down. A hint of panic shot through her and she dropped her gaze to the seat she was sitting on. Will had a horrible habit of eating in the car whether driving or not.

"You're on a towel, a clean one. Now quit stalling." His flippant dismissal of her crazy moment was reassuring and the fact that he had put a towel down for her was endearing.

The fact that he even had the towel to begin with was arousing.

Will's hand found her thigh again bypassing tender strokes to press against her center. Emma moaned and bucked up slightly cursing him for what he was doing to her and loving every second of it. He kept his hand against her and she rocked up a couple more times crying out in frustration when it abruptly disappeared.

"Sorry, heavy traffic."

Looking out the window Emma noticed two things, the first being that Will had turned onto a back road at some point and the second being the absence of traffic in any form. She stopped trying to notice anything else when Will started to talk.

"Driver's Ed 101 Rule Number One. It's very, very dangerous to drive without both hands on the wheel." Will stole a glance at her lap.

"Damn, that's inconvenient."

"Driver's Ed 101 Rule Number Two. One should always keep both eyes on the road." This time Will didn't turn his head.

"Hmm, this is becoming a problem." He sounded like a professor talking about a student that wouldn't leave them alone, nonchalant.

Emma was watching him intently trying to figure where this was going but it was impossible to pick up anything from the side of his face other than being able to tell when he clenched his jaw.

"Well seeing as I'm supposed to be _demonstrating_ proper driving techniques I can't help you," Will's voice lowered and Emma shivered, "touch yourself."

All of the arguments Emma had been rallying in her head about how she shouldn't let him do this, that she needed to be the one doing something like this to him because he deserved it turned to dust with those two words.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will did feel a little bad about what he was doing to Emma after what he had put her through last night so as it was he found himself trying to follow both his first and second rules.

_I can smell her._

Keeping his hands on the steering wheel while Emma's breathing quickened sounded easy until he thought about the reason behind the change.

He tightened his grip as well as his resolve when he told her to put her hand inside her underwear. His eyes slid closed momentarily when his name in a harsh, breathy whisper followed his command for Emma to put a finger inside herself.

He had to wrench the wheel to the left when he almost went off the side of the road because of the moan Emma produced when he told her to touch her clit. He devised rule number three.

"Rule," he was officially having trouble forming words," number three. Noisy passengers are a severe distraction to the driver."

What had become an almost constant background of tiny whimpers and sighs suddenly dropped off and Will regretted his third rule. Her smell was overpowering and he wanted to touch her, taste her.

_I really want to taste her. _

The only guide he had now was that of Emma's breathing unless he counted the road signs he was passing and he wasn't. He had turned around a while ago and was coasting along a barely used gravel road that would ultimately lead them back into Lima.

Emma whined softly as her erratic breathing became steady in its silence and Will broke rule number two because he really wanted to watch her come.

* * *

A/N: Poor Finn...and the verdict is?


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Let me know if it's possible to get virutal whiplash from the contrast in my chapters and blame Will, Sue and Holly for the length...but mostly Sue.

Enjoy.

**

* * *

****Chapter Twenty-Seven**

**Sue's POV**

Neon pink rectangles crammed with immaculate hand-writing were strewn all over her desk. They even blocked the picture of her standing next to the latest first-place trophy for Nationals which she had spent four painstaking hours photo-shopping the entire cheerios squad out of. Nothing was ever set on top of that picture, especially not pink-post it notes.

Sue had gotten to school early in the hope she would catch Will after missing him yesterday. Typing an entire German instruction manual into took time. The sight of an occupied garbage can in an office that never had a piece of lint inside the metal container for longer than twenty minutes had proven impossible to resist.

Only one person knew she had a master key. It hadn't taken much to convince Brittany to snatch it out of Figgin's unlocked desk after she had told the girl it would unlock the secrets of the universe and confirmed that one of those secrets would tell her why people wanted to save daylight during Daylight Savings Time and what would happen if one day they saved too much and forgot where they put the extra.

Her bribery was paying off and Sue didn't need a translation website to comprehend what she was reading.

She scrutinized every detail of the bottom right-hand drawer of her desk. It was no different than any of the others appearance wise. Dull, plain, wooden, but she hadn't touched it in weeks and that had been by accident, the unfortunate result of leaning forward when Will had been speaking too softly. After avoiding it for years her fingers wrapped around the handle felt foreign. Her eyes were closed as she searched around for the object inside. They remained closed as she carefully placed it atop the sea of notes she hadn't bothered to move. There was a trash can to her left, a heavy duty paper shredder to her right but she wouldn't have been able to use them even if she wanted to. Part of her did but a larger part refused.

Sue counted to ten and didn't move a muscle so she kept going to twenty. When that didn't work she put her newfound linguistic skills to use and began to count to ten in German getting as far as five. Pure reflex caused her to open her eyes when she couldn't remember the word for six. Poor planning was the reason she was staring down. Cruel irony was why she thought of the word seconds later when it no longer mattered. The simple, black leather journal was already drilling holes straight through her while she imagined an actual drill doing the same right back.

Her second day at Mckinnely the book had already found its new home before her trophies had even been unpacked. The worn pages had yellowed with time and the secrets they contained had accompanied her to every job she had ever held. All they ever did was take up a drawer. Nothing else was put in whatever space the possession occupied not even the journals she kept now. She didn't want this life touching her old one afraid one would tarnish the other.

The trophies that surrounded her were always in top condition and she was content to let students and faculty alike think her conceded. She reinforced it. At night when she couldn't sleep she would drive to the school and sit in the parking lot trying to convince herself to go home only to end up wandering the halls where she waged a familiar battle and lost every time, defeated as soon as she unlocked her office door and turned on the light. She would shine the awards like her life depended on it and it did, this one anyways.

Her previous life had been tainted, flawed, tarnished. The trophies she kept untarnished allowed her to believe she wasn't failing even if the notion often fled before it hit the ground. She kept them free of dust as a safeguard against the part of her that through the years remained caked with grime and shame she could never wash off. A physical barrier dividing everything she had now from everything she lost then. A safety net of sorts against the life she had forged and the one that had forged her. The journal in front of her served the same purpose. Knowing it was there was enough but she never allowed herself to think about it. Thinking was the first step to doing and if she touched, opened it all of her efforts would be revealed as the illusion of control she had devised to replace the one she had given up. It kept the line that separated the two in place but Emma Pillsbury was seconds away from becoming the reason that line blurred.

Sue took a deep, shaky breath, placed one finger along the edge of the pages and brought back into her life the things she had forcefully removed. There were no dates, only times and days of the week. It seemed her past self had the foresight to realize that her future self wouldn't want to be able to compare the events of past and present narrowed down to one twenty-four hour time slot. As she began to read Sue barely recognized herself but who she had been came flooding back like the teen had never really left.

_Wednesday 12:42am_

_I can see the outline of a few of my vertebrae and I think it's more than I used to be able to see. I don't think I have always been capable of seeing this. Everything is foggy in that regard. I mean, I know deep down that my hipbones are more prominent but I can't pinpoint by how much. It's like I'm incapable of remembering how my body used to look. I'm fairly certain my breasts are smaller. No not breasts, fat deposits. _

The next page she flipped to was littered with randomly placed, hastily written angry words. She remembered exactly why she had written them. In a required Literature of the Great Plains class her instructor who could have stepped right back onto a cattle ranch was ranting about Americans and food. He was always off topic and sometimes she walked out of that class immersed in such deep thoughts she didn't remember the walk home. Other times she only replayed his words. Mr. Kane had gone on and on about how everything is aimed at fat people because fat people spend money…on food. That was the entire tirade; fat people spend money on food. Sue had bought an apple that day and thrown it away class.

A page she didn't even recall contained the words "FAT GIRL" written as many times as the space would allow. In the middle was "FAILURE."

_Thursday 2:15pm_

_I've got to get my shit back together in the next few days. I'm so fat! What am I going to do? I can't let anyone see me like this. I spend most of the day naked anymore checking my body over and over for any newly visible bones or even slightly more prominent ones._

_Saturday 1:23am_

_You are a failure. Maybe you can redeem yourself if you lose more weight but you will probably fail at that too. You aren't even skinny enough for people to notice. Feel those hunger pains? Those are your friend. Don't worry about the fatigue or constantly being cold. They are stepping stones to your success. Don't listen to that small voice that tells you to stop, listen to me. I'm the one you need to obey. _

_Friday 4:44pm_

_Now that was weird. I felt a cramp and had to go to the bathroom and my period has started. We all know what that means don't we? It means I'm failing. My body still thinks I'm capable of reproducing. It means I'm not trying hard enough. I still weigh too much. All that work shot to hell twice in one day. Binge, purge and binge on what food was left. Stupid bitch. _

_Tuesday 3:56am_

_Part of me just wants to get that diagnosis just so then I won't have to stop trying to justify my behavior. I can simply blame it on the disorder. If I went a few days without food I would no longer have to attribute it to my being fucked up but a rather a result of something real, something tangible. _

_Monday 6:48pm_

_I never thought Tanner would become such a valued friend in my life. He's helped me with so many things I thought I would never have to face. I never thought I would have to watch him die burdened with the knowledge that there is nothing I can do because nothing can stop AIDS. It's eating away at me. Eating me away, how ironic. I was making a frozen pizza when he called, its sitting on the counter untouched. I don't want to eat anymore, don't want to binge. I want control and all I can feel is it being ripped away. I've been failing lately, eating too much and my best friend is dying and somehow that means I shouldn't have to eat, that I shouldn't even have the desire to, ever. I don't understand? Why do I think this way? I wasn't supposed to have to watch him die, not so soon._

_Saturday 8:12pm_

_I cut again, punishment for my eating. I have to have some way to justify it or I…I don't know what would happen. In a world where all I do is put myself down, condense all my attributes that might be considered positive into my ability to refrain from eating and call myself worthless this attribute is proof that I'm succeeding at something. I don't respect myself, even my success is self-damaging. If you feel inadequate in every aspect of your life patting yourself on the back for eating a sandwich or running around the track one more time just doesn't cut it. I am undeserving of anything resembling praise therefore finding success in something the world considers a failure is my only glimmer of hope. Took two propanolol. I want to be numb. I just don't want to feel anything. Bought a scale, a cheap one, mechanical but it's enough. It says 110. Fucking fat bitch. I didn't buy a laxative because I figured that would look too weird. It was strange, as soon as I saw it I had to have it. Why I never bothered to buy a scale before I don't know. Everything else could be taken away but if I had this scale I would be fine. It's a lifeline and I've owned it for less than twelve hours._

_Saturday 10:30pm_

_Tonight at least life doesn't seem so incredibly overwhelming. If I had more nights where I socialized with people maybe I would be okay. Once again let me reiterate future self that tonight, I felt normal and for once I forgot that even my normal is medicated._

Sue mentally thanked her past self and glumly informed her that their normal was still medicated.

_Thursday 10:45am_

_We went to Pizza Hut. I was only going to eat one slice. I know everyone stared at the fat girl who downed five. My weight was 105.4 yesterday. Don't want to know what is now. I found out at my appointment with the dietician that Sophia drug me to that the school psychologist had diagnosed me with anorexia. I didn't know she was diagnosing me. How am I that fucking stupid? I want to feel safe. When I think about giving up my rituals and routines regarding food I start to feel unsure, scared, unsafe. Sometimes I allow myself to be scared I won't kick this eating disorder. I'm worried that it has become too much a part of me to deposit so easily._

She was coming to the pages that dealt with her first attempt at recovery and it hurt to read the back and forth between her old self and the disorder that didn't want to let her go.

Tuesday 1:46am

Fuck this shit I don't want to try anymore. I was perfectly fine the way I was. At least life was manageable. I don't want to eat anymore. I gave it a shot like he said and I don't like it.

Wednesday 2:47am

I want to have a life. I want friends. I want to be normal. I don't want to be the girl with the eating disorder. I want a new identity.

Sometimes I think about being skinny again. In some twisted way I can rationalize that going backwards, shifting to reverse to get back where I was would merely be finishing what I started and I they always tell me I give up too easily.

_Saturday 11:59pm_

_Will I ever stop fucking myself over? Will I ever be successful? Will this hellish portion of my life ever be just a memory?_

Sue slammed the journal closed. She couldn't handle the brutal reality of how harsh she had been on herself. The numerous scars on her legs were a reminder she worked to ignore every day. Reluctantly she opened it again. There was one thing she hadn't looked at and she knew exactly where it was. Flipping to the last three pages she stared at her own list. The behaviors, that just like Emma, she had compiled to see just how much the eating disorder might be infringing upon her efforts at recovery. Out of a list of forty-eight, twenty-one things were crossed off. She slammed the memories closed for the final time, threw it in the drawer and kicked it shut burying her head in her hands determined to not cry because Sue Sylvester did not do things like that.

_I should tell Will. There aren't as many things on her list, less items crossed off. Maybe that means something and maybe it doesn't. What if it doesn't? What if I tell Will and he confronts her? I had more things crossed off than she did and I didn't relapse that time. That doesn't mean a damn thing but I will sit here and tell myself that it does. He will lose all of the trust he has been so patiently building up. They are so happy right now, so in love. I can't do that too them. I won't be the reason they drift apart. If I had someone like him I wouldn't want someone like me waltzing in and destroying it with something that could be nothing. I'm not going to tell him. I'll keep an eye on her but I'm not going to say anything, not until I have to, not when it would devastate him so much. I'm not that cold-hearted. I'm not a lot of the things I let people believe. _

A knock on her door caused her to abruptly straighten, a glare forming for the benefit of the intruder who had the gall to approach her when she was like this. Her anger faded and she panicked when she saw that the intruder was Will. Folding her arms across the desk Sue covered as many of the notes as she could and pleaded with no one but herself for him to not step inside.

"What are you doing? Why are there post-it notes all over your desk? They look like the ones Emma always has," his eyes narrowed, "in fact I know they are. You would never use pink." Confusion was visible on his face even if the questions were friendly as he leaned against the door frame.

Thinking quickly Sue grabbed a pencil and holding it tip down closed her eyes and jammed it into what she hoped was a piece of paper and not her desk.

"Well you see William I didn't want to use my paper which is of the highest quality imported from China in case you didn't know and Ginger's post-it notes get the job done quite nicely."

She crumpled the piece of paper the pencil had pierced. The one that said she had thought of purging. The one that was now lying at the bottom of her trash can the way it had been laying at the bottom of Emma's. Sue tried to ignore the symbolism.

"What are you doing?" Now he was skeptical, like he was worried she was going to turn on him and sabotage Glee.

"I'm playing a little game I like to call "Stab and Pray." It's pretty simple. In fact you, with the two-percent of your brain not inhibited by pointless songs, could probably comprehend it. I stab this thing here, which is referred to as a pencil by those fortunate enough to not have their brains turned to mush by the Lima public school system, into pieces of paper that contain the names of the weakest cheerios on the squad and the one the pencil, "Sue held up the writing utensil pointing to it with her index finger," hits is the one who gets cut. Stab because I stab them through the heart and pray because that's all they can do when I walk in the room with the results." She felt bad lying about the game, lying to Will, lying about what the notes said.

"That's horrible Sue." There was disbelief this time.

"Yeah well so is your hair." Sue dropped her act to the only person she trusted enough to let in. "How is she?"

Will visibly relaxed. "She's…she's okay I think. Some stuff happened that isn't exactly working in our favor but I'm hopeful. It's all I can be."

"She'll be fine I'm sure," She told what she hoped was the whole truth more than willing to compromise for partial.

"Thanks Sue. It means a lot, to hear you say that. I won't be able to meet with you for awhile I have to be at the Glee rehearsals but if I need advice I'll seek you out." Will looked surprised when she didn't respond with a snide remark about his club.

"William, before you go. Do you use Maple or Corn Syrup?" The mask was back in place although not as snugly as it usually was.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You're hair, which I still doubt is an accurate descriptor by the way. I'll let you know the final verdict on that when I finish scouring the thesaurus. I heard Beiste talking on the phone with who I can only assume was Ginger, unless someone else in Virginia put syrup in your hair. I must say I'm disappointed. I had a whole list of possibilities that were far more creative than syrup." Sue let her voice slip back into friendly-banter mode not wanting to potentially offend him, she felt guilty enough already.

He sighed mumbling something about how he knew she was going to find out and turned around his voice echoing in the empty hall as he told her it was corn-syrup that it was more conducive to the style he wanted and a lot easier to work with.

For the first time since she was a college student Sue opened the drawer she had just closed, gathered up the disjointed list of bright-pink symptoms, salvaged the one from the trash and placed them neatly next to the journal. Two lives tainted with the same problem couldn't really cause any damage if they came into contact. Maybe they would cancel each other out.

* * *

**Shannon's POV**

Shannon had no idea where to go with this conversation. She wanted to end it or at least divert it but wasn't sure how. She knew where it had turned south, the exact moment, she even knew enough to offer her take on the subject having recently researched it. It was the words that escaped her and the fear of offending the woman sitting across from her prevented her from tracking them down. So she carried her counter-argument out in her head and pretended it actually made a difference.

Emma had walked past the open door to the lunch room twenty minutes prior and for every second of those twenty-minutes Shannon had been regretting the greeting she had called out even though the guidance councilor had lit up and her smile had been genuine.

An important away game tomorrow meant she would be gone which is what led her to meet with her substitute. She respected the woman's desire to learn as much as she could about how she ran the health class that had been tossed into her lap with barely a weeks' notice on Figgin's part. Unfortunately this meeting had led to this moment and she had no way out.

The door clicked closed and as the footsteps grew nearer Shannon saw the increasing possibility of divine intervention in the form of a bleary-eyed Glee director as he made a beeline for the coffee maker.

She waited for the smile she knew he would throw in her direction and purposefully made eye contact longer than was necessary, a silent message for him to pay attention instead of making notes while he listened to Sectionals songs on his ipod. Somewhere over the last few weeks he had vastly improved in his ability to catch cues from other people and she breathed a sigh of relief when he grabbed the McKinnely high news paper that she had never once seen him so much as pick up, sat down at his usual spot, casually sipped at his coffee and pretended to read.

Shannon restarted the conversation that had ceased when Will had entered the room. If she didn't know better she would have thought the blonde across from her was checking him out. Keeping the same topic she asked her to explain her viewpoint saying she wasn't sure she understood while she wondered how far the woman would get before the intervention took place.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Stepping into the lunch room Will did a double-take when he noticed two people present were normally there were none. Shannon was sitting across from a slender blonde he didn't recognize. He thought about introducing himself but he was already short on time from his conversation with Sue and there were more important things, insane things like sifting through sectionals songs with a fine-toothed comb the week of the competition.

He smiled at the coach holding the expression while he read the pleading look in her eyes. Something was wrong. Wrapping the ear buds around his ipod he pocketed it deciding that Shannon's interruption of a ritual he told himself every competition that he would stop could only benefit him and his sanity in the long run.

Scanning his immediate surroundings Will grabbed a discarded school paper. He despised them and hadn't touched one since his first day. They were eight pages of full-color Cheerio's ads with one black and white page of other school events that never mentioned Glee club. Cautiously he took a sip of his steaming coffee and settled into the chair. It wasn't like he was going to be reading the dribble anyways.

"Wait back up a bit, okay back up a lot. I'm not sure I caught any of that." _Conversational._

"Are you serious? It was a perfectly legit twenty-minute explanation behind a societal problem but whatever I guess we have time, anything for education. Ignorance only fosters discrimination and misunderstanding." _Not quite so conversational._

Her last sentence had sounded pretty good to him. That was something Will wished he could shout from the rooftops and pound into everyone who thought they ruled the world with their self-fabricated, unverified factoids of bullshit.

"She's clearly anorexic, "_Okay Shannon I'm listening._" Three things come to mind when I see people like her. One, I don't understand why people would go to such extreme measures to be thin. Two, It's annoying that they are so unrealistically good at dieting and three, for that reason I think it would be great to have just a small case of anorexia just to make my own diets less of an epic failure. It's sad I admit but more than that it's just plain stupid. You can't get through to them. They never listen when you tell them they don't look fat. Society does some pretty messed up stuff to some people I guess. Actually I think our society needs to cool it with the "end obesity" campaign. It's only going to make the rate of eating disorders rise and then we will be in more debt treating people who don't listen. They choose it you know, god knows why. I don't feel bad for her, sad like I mentioned earlier but not bad, not sympathetic. She could just start eating if she wanted to, nothing is stopping her."There was no malice in her words just a woman explaining her position.

_Everything is stopping her._

Will finished off the last swallow of his coffee mulling over everything he had just heard. Shannon's look made sense now.

He stood up, stretched to appear casual and started weaving his way through the chairs no one ever bothered to push in. Not that he didn't contribute to the problem he was just as guilty as the next guy. Ironic that as teachers they harped on the students all the time about the courtesy and they never did it themselves.

It wasn't like he was going to change the world's perception of eating disorders but maybe he could change hers. Maybe get her to consider the idea or at the bare minimal leave with questions that someday she would seek out the answer to.

"Mind if I join you?"He extended his hand, "I'm Will Schuester but you can call me Will. I teach Spanish and direct the Glee club." And you are?

"Holly, Holly Holiday," She grimaced, "my parents had an odd sense of humor. I subbed for you this past week, your students are…interesting."

"I think what you are looking for is mindless zombies who repeat whatever you say and if you said it in the right drawn out, over enunciated tone they would repeat swear words without even realizing it." He good-naturedly said what she hadn't.

Holly beamed at him.

"I like you, you're blunt and funny. That's refreshing. Most guys I'm around are just as clueless as those teenagers are in the morning except for them it's their only state of being. Please have a seat. Shannon was just leaving. You seem interesting enough. I'd love to get to know you, if you know what I mean." She smacked the gum he didn't know she had.

_Was that what I think it was?_

By the look on Shannon's face it was clear that she hadn't been aware she was leaving right that instant which for Will's sake shifted to another expression that told him Holly's banter wasn't exactly innocent. The coach still looked relieved to walk out either way.

"So, tell me about yourself. You're a cute one by the way. I'm sure the ladies are all over you and the students probably all have a crush on you. I bet your one of those teachers who gets their ass ogled as they write on the board while their students think not so innocent thoughts. I would have." She was grinning wickedly at him her eyes expectant.

_Great, just what I need. This conversation is in serious need of a course correction._

"Ah, thanks? Actually I couldn't help but overhear your conversation about our guidance councilor. I don't want to seem like I'm preaching to you or anything but if I told you that there was more to eating disorders than societal influences would you be willing to hear me out?" _That was probably the definition of how to completely botch a subject change._

"Well that's an odd way to change the topic but as I said before, I like you and you're cute. I'd be more than happy to listen, means I can stare at you longer…kidding, kidding. Fire away." Her facial expressions were all over the place and he couldn't decipher any of them.

_I don't think you're kidding._

"Eating disorders aren't what society portrays them as. They aren't a desire to be thin brought on by the onslaught of images of skinny models and the people who have them, contrary tpo popular belief, are not exceptionally good at denying themselves food. That would be like saying a person with OCD is just really good at cleaning. They have an ability to ignore their body's signals that it wants food which most people view as a skill that they would love to possess. It never goes away in an anorexic and after a while it becomes a disorder that world still upholds as a skill."

"People don't think of them as a real disorder but they have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. The relapse rate after recovery is sadly very high and worse many will not successfully recover without relapsing more than once. It varies with each person. Some stay healthy for years, others months, some only weeks." Will swallowed trying to rid his throat of the lump that was forming as he failed at not applying those words to Emma.

"People believe what they see. What they see is someone who is too thin. What they believe is that they are doing it to themselves. That's what I used to think but what's really happening is that the disease traps them, ensnares them with the illusion of control and success. They can suceed where others fail. It all comes back to success and failure the same things you and I worry about. It's sort of like asking the person next to you how they did on a test pretending you're only curious when you really just want to know if they did worse, especially if you got a bad grade."

"I was usually the one trying to make myself feel better," Holly chuckled looking directly at him, "It still doesn't make sense to me though. I mean I understand the test grade thing but that's trivial. Why would someone feel better than everyone else for not doing something we need to live? Do they want to die?"Her voice was hushed and Will could tell he was getting to her, shoveling his way through the crap society slung everywhere.

"Not usually, no. If you ask they never say they want to die. Occasionally some will think about it and some…do more than think about it and sometimes it's just their body giving up." Three more things he didn't want to think about, three more things he wished he could forget.

Holly half-rolled her eyes and snorted, "Well that last part is kinda stupid isn't it? Everyone knows starving yourself is an unhealthy thing to do. It's forced into every seventh-graders skull across the nation just like the side-effects of smoking." Will was glad to see that she was inserting her thoughts it meant she was trying to work things out.

"You're right but people with eating disorders just like people who smoke, drink, or do drugs know what they are doing to their body and they know the dangers they just tell themselves it won't happen to them. They won't be the one who develop lung cancer, destroy their liver or a have a heart attack. They're not bad enough for that because in their eyes no matter how severely sick they are there is always someone worse and unfortunately in a lot of cases that's true. Have you ever tried to tell someone that they are only damaging themselves, that they will look back on this time and regret it? They deny you every time. They laugh it off and think you're crazy for even bringing it up. It's not that they aren't listening. They truly don't believe you." He had tangible proof of that.

"Why don't they just stop then? Why don't they just start eating?" She was curious seeking knowledge on something a few minutes ago she had written off.

"…because it's all they know. I can't even begin to imagine this but often they don't remember a time when they could eat without worrying about calories or without fear. Something that has been in their life for a year has the ability to color their entire past. Most have to be re-taught things like how to walk into a grocery store, grab what they want and walk out without checking every item to see which one has the lowest calorie count, the most pieces per serving size or the least amount of fat. It becomes a part of their life, a routine and even the most spontaneous people take comfort in routines. They talk about not wanting to give up the feeling of control even though they are the ones being controlled. They never see it that way, at least not until after they've been recovered for quite some time. The mindset of an eating disorder is the hardest to break away from and the thoughts will decrease but never leave. That's reason that so many relapse. It becomes their identity, how they define themselves, what gives them a sense of pride. It's no different than us identifying ourselves as teachers and feeling good about ourselves when the other person tells us how great that is. Imagine how you would feel if someone took that away from you and then imagine how much worse it would be if you took it away from yourself."

Will lightened the conversation talking to Holly about Glee but he could tell that she never fully engaged, that she was lost in thought and he had never been happier to have some not pay attention when he was talking about the thing he loved.

She stopped him before he got out the door calling his name softly from across the room joking that he was better than wikipedia before very seriously asking who in his life had or did have an eating disorder. She threw out options; cousin, sister, mother, extended family member.

"My girlfriend," he answered quietly watching as her face fell and realization set in.

"I'm so sorry. You must think I'm such a bitch." Taking steps towards him she kept apologizing all over herself.

"Don't be, you didn't know." _There are probably a million people I've passed judgment on while their significant other sat ten feet away. _

Holly stopped and smiled at him from her position half-way to where he stood. The expression was simple enough but just like all the others he couldn't attach a label to it. There was something different about her, about the way she carried herself. He had a feeling that the talk they had just shared was the closest she had come to letting her guard down in a long time and he wondered if her flirty nature wasn't a part of that. Everyone had something.

Will returned the sentiment chuckling and wincing at the same time when she cat-called him on the way out. That could be a potential source of very heated conflict if he wasn't careful. Emma had accepted that he wouldn't leave her but it had been a drawn-out, repetitive process in the form of assurances on his part. Seeing someone flirt with him especially a woman who looked like Holly would only bring that insecurity back more than likely with a few tag-alongs.

* * *

**Holly's POV**

It had been years since she had held a conversation that honest with someone and even then it was a trusted friend she had known for most of her life not a man she had met five minutes beforehand.

At first she couldn't figure out why a complete stranger wanted to talk to her about eating disorders. It had simply been a topic she had latched on to when she saw the red-head walk by. Reflecting on it now she was embarrassed about how insensitive she must have sounded and considering the woman she had been basing the conversation on was Will's girlfriend she was amazed she was still alive. He really was a one of a kind guy. Not many people would politely try and get you to see something differently after you had just ran their girlfriend into the ground and then backed over them with a truck about eight times in ten seconds.

She still wasn't clear on a lot of what he had said. It was obvious he was operating with a lot more knowledge than she was and she had spent part of the time playing catch up when he used words like "unsafe" to describe food.

The part she felt the worst about was the remark she could only describe as snarky about why they just didn't stop. No one would ever convince her to ask what he was thinking when she said that. Eating disorders were something she read about or heard on the news and he never called her out on it but her entire stance was based solely on the media's portrayal. She was included in the people he had nicely refrained from calling ignorant.

_The disorder becomes their identity, how they define themselves, what gives them a sense of pride…. Imagine how you would feel if someone took that away from you and imagine how much worse it would be if you took it away from yourself." _

There wasn't much pride at least as far she was considered that came with identifying yourself as a substitute but that wasn't how she saw herself. Parallels between her life and the life of someone with an eating disorder existed all over the place and that was unsettling. She was flirty, suggestive, impulsive, a non-conformist and some would say sexually fluid and she never committed to a relationship. Those things were failures by a lot of people's standards and as soon as she had asked Will why they didn't just stop and start eating she couldn't help noticing the lines. She could stop. She could commit. Her behavior had gotten into trouble more times than she would ever admit to anyone. Schools had banned her from coming back due to her unorthodox teaching methods. Men had used her one too many times and she made sure she kept her distance now. If she concentrated hard enough she could forget how insecure she was, how terrified she was of failure if she did something crazy and rash…because it was something she could lord over those she felt were more successful than her…because she could do it and they couldn't. _Parallels, far too many parallels._

It had stung a bit when he mentioned he had a girlfriend until the soft, comforting tone of his voice told her whom he was speaking of and simultaneously why he knew so much about eating disorders. Normally she would have brushed an incident like that off. They happened all the time but Will had respected her enough to sit down and really talk, to treat her like a person instead of some crazed lunatic even though that was how she intentionally portrayed herself. The last person who had done that was her grandfather. Her parents hadn't really been the parenting type and it was him who kept her on the right side of the tracks. She had been headed down a dangerous road that she had convinced herself was safe or more accurately she had convinced herself that the consequences would never reach her. Her grandfather got through to her the same way Will did today and both of them were causing her to re-evaluate things in her life. The woman would have no idea what she was talking about but she wanted to find her and apologize. That had been her intention when she had smiled at Will. She was going to tell him to tell her she was sorry but she had merely whistled at him as he walked out. A defense against a situation that was a little too intense. She always did that. Being loud, obnoxious and flirty enabled her to keep people at arm's length. She did enjoy it but she knew when it was inappropriate. Sometimes she did it anyways and other times it became a default like the cat-call aimed at the backside of the man who had just walked out.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

It was an unexpected, treasured bright spot when Shannon waved and shouted hello as she walked past the break room and she had considered joining her until she noticed the other woman. She didn't want to deal with strangers, not today.

Sitting in her office she made every effort to convince herself that she was feeling normal but when she placed a blue pen next to a green one she gave up. She had lied to Will, again and although she wanted to believe he didn't notice she was almost positive that he had. It wasn't something that could be easily explained away.

Her period had stopped two days ago something that could occur for months after it resumed. The body could take a long time to stabilize itself. The day with the ice cream she had gotten too caught up in how wonderful everything felt, how proud she was that she had done something that before Kevin forced her to pet Kesa she wouldn't have thought possible. When he put his finger inside of her she was too far gone to remember that she wasn't supposed to let him. A girlfriend of hers in high school had gotten toxic-shock syndrome and she always followed directions to the letter so when her period had stopped she stopped using tampons. She should have used one anyways.

Yesterday she had done it again, to herself which made it even worse and she didn't understand why Will didn't bring it up. He wouldn't miss something like that, not when she had made such a big deal about it, not when it was the reason they hadn't had sex yet. Honestly she was getting nervous about being that intimate and the loathing she felt over that anxiety was only compounded by the knowledge that Will would be nothing but gentle, tender, loving. It wouldn't be anything like the teasing they had been doing lately and that scared her. The vulnerability wasn't there when she acted like that. If Will took his time, like she knew he would when they finally made love he would notice everything about her, every flaw and every last one of her insecurities would be revealed. She had disliked her body before. She loathed it now. During shower she kept her eyes closed so she wouldn't have to see it and she had become a pro at locating things in the dark because if the lights were on all she wanted to was look in the mirror. Numerous times Will had told her she was beautiful and a part of her always believed him while the other part only longed to believe him. The way she had dressed that night at the fair had helped at first until she had caught a middle-aged woman staring at her. Emma had smiled and the woman had done nothing. It didn't matter that Emma had no idea what she had been thinking because she had inserted her own thoughts. She didn't know what she was doing anymore about anything although right now, as insignificant as it was she knew she wanted tea, peppermint tea.

The lunch room door was closed and it took her a while to open the door due to the unidentified woman she would have to make polite, pointless conversation with. All she wanted to do was enter, get her tea and exit. Emma only opened the door a couple inches. She still wasn't sure if she wanted the tea that badly.

"_So, tell me about yourself. You're a cute one by the way. I'm sure the ladies are all over you, students probably all have a crush on you. I bet your one of those teachers who gets their ass ogled as they write on the board while their students think not so innocent thoughts. I would have."_

Emma backed away forgetting about the tea wanting to run from the exchange but her feet refused to move. Her sense of hearing abandoned her after Will said thanks. She had only seen the woman in passing but that hadn't stopped her from noticing how strikingly beautiful she was, the long flowing blonde hair, the confidence that she oozed…her chest. Over the years Emma had become convinced that her insecurity about that part of her body would never go away it would just wear different hats the only commonality being the dissatisfaction. Now that she was trying to eat more, now that she had started to develop some semblance of breasts she was back to worrying that when she was at a normal weight it wouldn't be enough for Will, after all she was nothing compared to Terri or April or Shelby. She was less than nothing compared to the enthusiastic, free-spirited woman who had just told Will she would have been one of the students who stared at his ass and imagined him having sex. Jealousy raged but she couldn't act on it no matter how much she wanted to march in there and declare that Will was hers. Shame bringing nagging thoughts that Will might have only settled for her. A decision based on proximity and nothing more. She was the master at switching from trusting him to wondering about his motives at the drop of a hat, one of her metaphorical hats, while she picked up another one and questioned everything she knew deep down she already had the answers for.

Emma leaned against the wall just to the side of the door and listened afraid but resolute. Her mind entertained him saying that he thought she was cute too, him asking her out, her agreeing, him neglecting to mention he had someone in his life, neglecting to mention her but he wasn't doing any of that. Will was talking about eating disorders with an amount of insight she never would have guessed he had. It felt like he was describing her and the longer he spoke the more contemplative she sounded. At that moment Emma had never been more proud of him and the way he was taking the time to discuss something most people never broached. Even people with eating disorders stayed quiet as the misinformed rattled on. Upon hearing a feminine voice ask who it was in his life that had an eating disorder, ticking off different possibilities while leaving out a rather obvious one Emma inwardly lashed out at the blonde. She was still interested in him. His soft admission that it was his girlfriend made her smile sadly until the woman put two and two together. Ducking around the corner when she heard Will approaching the door the anger came back when she heard a wolf-whistle seconds before he walked out the door and a small, amused chuckle left his lips.

Emma was burning with questions and accusations that she maintained were illogical but the pull of them being the opposite was too much for her to ignore so she waited until Will was out of the woman's sight and grabbed his wrist dragging him behind her as she headed towards his office not bothering to answer when he asked what she was doing.

As soon as the door closed she tore into him. She didn't want to but like some many other things she didn't have the control not to.

"Do you like her? Is that why you thanked her when she called you cute? Is that why you laughed when she whistled at you? Do you like her?" She repeated her first question to emphasize that it was the one she really wanted an answer to.

"Emma, no, no I don't like her, not like that. I said thanks because I wasn't sure how to respond." He started to approach her and she stepped behind his desk.

"Why did you laugh?" She had imagined herself sounding calm and collected not harsh and cold. She never did live up to her expectations. She wasn't sure why she still had any.

"I would understand if you did like her. She's beautiful, funny, free spirited…and has a better looking body than I will ever have. She's all the things I'm not, all the things you're missing out on by being with me." _Anger exist stage left. Insecurity take center stage._

"Emma, I don't need those things. I don't want those things. I need you. I want you." He took another step forward and she took anothe back yelling at herself to shut up and listen to him before she made things worse.

"I don't know if I can believe you. You made out with Shelby and you slept with both April and Terri and they have all the qualities that woman has." She hadn't ever meant to bring up those things and it was obvious by Will's expression that he hadn't been expecting the curveball either.

"I was a little confused then and I never slept with April not the way you think. We shared a bed and that was it. Nothing happened, and Terri…that was one of the worst mistakes I could have made and I never meant to hurt you. I should have come clean about it all but in my defense you haven't exactly been honest with me lately either." _Enter Anger stage right, duel with insecurity._

Emma shifted her eyes to the desk in front of her. There were so many things he could be referring to. She wasn't sure she wanted to know which one she was seconds away from having to answer to.

"Why didn't you tell me your period stopped." _Exit wounded anger. Enter fear._

"How do you know that?" As soon as the words left her mouth she wanted to yank them out of the air.

"Come on, Em" He fidgeted, "Do you really want me to spell it out for you?"

_No I don't. I'm not sure I have an answer. Would you accept that? I don't know if I would accept that if I were you. _

Will misinterpreted her silence and she didn't have the chance to correct him.

"You let me touch you, more than touch you, "Will's eyes found the floor," It didn't dawn on me until later I was too distracted by how you felt to notice you didn't have a tampon in and there wasn't any blood which would have been possible anyways but when you listened to me in the car I thought about it. That's when I knew."

Emma glowered at a pile of gold stars on a piece of sheet music.

"Is that why you did that, to confirm a suspicion? You did a pretty good job at pretending otherwise, coulda fooled me." _Exit fear arm in arm with insecurity. Anger limp back on stage for monologue._

Now he did walk over to her and she had nowhere to go because of the wall that now pressed against her back. He didn't touch her. He just stood, studied her and she was certain they had reached a stalemate until started speaking.

"No, god no, that is not why I did that. I _loved_ that," Will blushed but never took his eyes off of her," It's, this is embarrassing, something I've always wanted to do and when you went along with it, when you trusted me enough to do something like that, that just made it so much better. Yes, I thought about the other thing but it wasn't for long trust me and the only reason I brought up it now, in a situation I probably shouldn't have in retrospect, is because I just want to know why you felt you couldn't tell me. Don't misinterpret that please. I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm not saying that I'm upset because it was the one thing preventing us…because I know it's not and I'm okay with that. I'm just curious, a little hurt, but only looking for an answer."

* * *

**Will's POV**

Considering he hadn't decided if he was going to bring this up he sure had been rather impulsive about it, fueled by her accusations to make one of his own. A delicate one about something that was far more intrusive than what she had said about his past history with women.

"I shouldn't have lied. I should have told you. I wasn't intending to let you do…that. I was too lost in the moment. Everything felt so good and I want to feel you that way, all of you and I imagine what that would be like all the time." Emma's glanced up at him for a split second but it was long enough to deduce that she had not meant to tell him that.

Will smiled at her, the only thing he could do for the moment as he searched for a way to respond to what she had just revealed even if it hadn't been direct. That wasn't her style and he would have probably fainted if she had used the actual words. He wasn't aroused, he was touched and concerned. She really hadn't answered his question and he hadn't decided if he was going to ask her again.

"Don't be embarrassed about what you just said and the positive feedback was nice. I'm glad it felt good. It was good for me too, more than good and as for the rest, I feel the same way. I want to give that to you, more than anything and _definitely_ don't feel bad about thinking about it because I've probably done that way more than you have." _Don't freak out._

"Do you think about it when we kiss?" _Let me amend that, don't ask questions either._

"No, because I'm too busy thinking about how lucky I am to have you, until I can't think anymore that is." _Honesty is honesty._

"Do you think about it when we do more than kiss? Did you think about it with the ice cream?" Now she looked bashful," Did you think about it last night?"

"Yes to the ice cream, yes to last night along with a couple other things. _I take that back honesty is overrated._

"Hey you know this is probably something we should discuss at home. Besides, we don't have much time and I don't want this to be rushed." _That's true._

"You're right I guess. I'll see you when you get home okay? I'm not going to go to Glee today and we have the appointment with Kristen. Do you want to pick me up or drive separately?" She was less than enthused about the appointment.

"I'll pick you up." He raised his eyebrows, "I'll always pick you up. I know you won't be able to resist my cheesy lines."

Emma started to lean in to kiss him only to stop half-way when the first bell rang. He murmured sorry before racing out of the room hoping Figgin's wouldn't catch him. The man was surprisingly staunch about teachers being in the classroom by the first bell. Will felt like a salmon swimming upstream as he resisted the urge to shove students out of his way. When he saw Finn heading directly towards him, probably because he forgot his book in his locker, he considered the closet to his left but that would only prolong the discomfort so he waved told the teen he would see him in Glee and continued dodging throngs of oblivious students on cell phones and surprisingly heavy, painful book bags when a couple turned around right in front of him. _Maybe they thought I was going to call them out for the phone. If I started that I would be here all day, not that I'm making much progress._

_

* * *

_**Emma's POV**

Curled up on the couch still dressed in her pink flowery skirt and solid pink top from work Emma abandoned her sixth revival of her conversation with Will in his office and thrust the inner conflict she couldn't avoid any longer into the spotlight. Will would be home any minute and she had no idea what she was going to do at the appointment with Kristen, not the faintest inkling of what she was going to say, no clue as to whether she was going to tell the truth or small white lies that she would convince herself before, during and after they slipped from her mouth didn't matter while hoping Will stayed quiet. _I know he won't. You're going to try anyways. _

She thought back to the things she had crossed off from her list. It hadn't been in her trash can this morning where she had uncharacteristically left it but every once in a while the janitor cleaned the offices so maybe he had scraped them. Whatever the case she hoped no one had read them. She shouldn't have been so careless. _Four things, no big deal and even if I mention them Kristen will probably say it's normal and maybe it is. _

"You ready to make like a baby and head out?" She had no idea how he entered without her noticing.

"Where in the world did you get that from?"

"That's my secret, wouldn't want you to know where I get my charm." He held the door open waiting for her with a dorky grin on his face.

"Charm? You just likened us leaving the apartment to a baby leaving the birth canal. That's the epitome of charm alright." She couldn't help but giggle at his fake pout.

"Don't mock me. It's not nice, bordering on disrespectful." With that he was out the door before Emma even had a chance to retort.

_I should start counting how many times we toss that back and forth so in thirty years we can have a good laugh. I want that, a life with Will._

Emma took her time walking down the stairs still pondering what she was going to say. Her thoughts were still swirling when she got in the car that was already running.

"It's also disrespectful to make a guy wait practically five minutes when all you had to do was walk down some stairs." He didn't look at her but she could see the smirk.

She appreciated his efforts to make her laugh, to distract her from where they were going. Last time was horrible, too revealing, humiliating and stressful. Kristen was nice but the circumstances under which they met were not. Will was aware of how she felt and as of the other night she learned that he felt guilty about taking her. She never expected that. He was always doing everything he could to support her so she had just assumed he wrote these appointments off as something that needed to be done not something that needed to be done that he felt like he was betraying her for. _He's not making me I suppose. I could refuse but I can't do that to him._

Emma clutched Will's hand albeit not as tightly as she had before as she once again found herself waiting for the sound of papers being pulled from a slot on the door three feet away. When Kristen walked in with a bright, inviting smile Will enthusiastically greeted her while hers sounded hollow. She listened quietly as they exchanged a couple jokes, most of them at Wills' expense and she wished they would do nothing but that the entire hour. The shift in the collective mindset was uncomfortable. She bit her lip and ran her fingers over the bones on her wrist. Will cleared his throat shifting so that he slid further back into the couch bringing his leg up so that his ankle was balanced on his knee. Kristen somehow maintained eye contact with both of them, sat a clipboard on her lap and smiled the same smile she had worn when she walked in. A collective mindset focused on one topic with three different mindsets about how to broach the topic. Emma wanted to ignore it, Will probably wanted to address it and he would win because it was Kristen's job to extract and dissect things people on her side of the table didn't want to discuss.

"So, how was Virginia? I hope it wasn't too stressful. How did the eating go considering the change in environment? I know that must have been difficult for you." She was talking like she hadn't just skipped over the pleasant to land on the unpleasant.

"It was good. The food was okay. I surprised myself. We had pancakes, he got syrup in his hair." Will mumbled a sarcastic thanks," We had a picnic, went to a fair and I had a hot dog. It was good." It wasn't like she was lying if she left a couple minor things out.

"Emma," Will's voice gave her away instantly.

She glanced up at Kristen, pen at the ready and gave up some of her ground.

"My dad brought home KFC. It made me uncomfortable and I ate a little fast. I had a bowl of oatmeal before they got home and I didn't want to eat anymore but I couldn't refuse my dad…I only had oatmeal for breakfast and I refused the sandwich he packed for the trip." Emma finished lamely not wanting to talk anymore.

"Emma, please stop playing this game. I'm sitting right here." He only sounded sad.

Her glare towards Will sputtered out when she saw the concern in his eyes so she started again inserting the things she had left out. How she had made him ask how many calories where in the hot dog, how the voice was there when she ate the chicken, how she wanted to weigh herself when she got her period. She revealed everything except the one thing she didn't want to say out loud because she still denied it with every fiber of her being and when Kristen moved on to Will she thought she figured she had gotten away with the omission.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"Fifty dollars for your thoughts." Will blinked.

"The going rate is a penny but if you insist," he held out his hand with a joking smile.

"They look a little too deep to merit something as meaningless as a penny." _That's an interesting comment._

Digging around in his pocket he fished out some loose change and chucked a penny on the table in front of him that Emma had straightened after Kristen jokingly reached out and slanted it.

"I'm worried about her," There was this guy," Emma glared at him her eyes on fire, " I'm sorry but someone needs to bring it up. I'm not going to say anymore than what is necessary okay?" The intensity of her gaze lessened but she still wasn't happy with him.

"He was a mentor of sorts when she was a teenager and they met up in a park while I went to the store. Some stuff happened and I'm worried it's going to set her back. She's been different when she eats, contemplating things more and yet other times she seems fine. I don't know what to make of that. I know the voice comes and goes but she told you that." _Read between the lines, please._

He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell the nutritionist across from him what Emma had said to him in the kitchen after they had gone riding. A simple sentence stating he was worried wasn't enough to convey how troubled he felt. It was miles away. Emma held him back. If he told Kristen why Emma had tried to eat oatmeal that day he would be locked into providing some sort of watered-down version of what happened with Gates and that was far too personal for him to address even if it was his primary concern regarding a potential relapse into something she had barely started to recover from. _I know I'll be discussing it with Dan. Maybe I can convince her to sign a waiver saying he and Kristen could exchange information and maybe Rachel will voluntarily give up a solo. _

"We ate at Pizza Hut with a friend a couple weeks back."

"Will, it's not that big of a deal." She sounded desperate and Kristen noticed.

"It kinda is Em. Shannon, our friend, had coupons. She ate one piece and nothing seemed too off, ate it a little fast but I was cutting her some slack. I know how she feels about pizza. I actually tried to get her out of having to go. Shannon gave her a second piece and that time she ate way too fast and I knew what was coming and there was nothing I could do about it. I told myself that I was going to let everything play out however it did but I couldn't do it after she left for the bathroom. So I sent Shannon after her and eventually went back there myself. She didn't listen but I don't know if I would have listened to me either had I been her." Will reached over and squeezed Emma's knee relieved when she didn't scoot away.

"Why did you feel the need to purge?" _I hate that word. It sounds vulgar like it should never be applied to her._

"I wanted it out of me. I felt like a failure. I felt fat. I wanted to make those feelings go away."

Will watched her openly. Her answer was clipped, a red-light indicating she wasn't going to provide any other information. Between the two recounts Kristen could piece together the details on her own.

"Okay kiddo," Both Will and Emma glanced up in surprise at the out of place moniker," wanna do the weight thing?" She was already grabbing the scale although if Emma said no Kristen would have to listen.

_Please don't say no._

"I guess," Emma sounded defeated, like she had just signed away her life.

"I guess." Kristen repeated in the same drawn out tone with a small grin," Okay is he staying with you again because someone has to."

Emma nodded and Will braced himself. This had been an absolute fiasco the last time and he didn't want to go through that again. It was bad enough that he was going to be withholding information from her.

Kristen walked out closing the door softly behind her and Emma didn't move. _Great, uphill battle, why is there never a battle on level-ground. Who decided it had to be uphill or downhill?_

"Come on Em, it's just to check." Moving towards her he gently took hold of her by the elbow and hoisted her off the couch in the direction of the scale.

"What if it reads too high?" She was trying to get away but not very hard, just a small amount of resistance.

"It won't." _Should I have said that?_

He let go of Emma's arm as she started to undress and just like the last time he was using her back being turned as an opportunity to really study her body. It frustrated him that he could only notice little things here and there. He felt like there should be noticeable changes. Her stomach wasn't flat but it wasn't what he would consider normal either. Her ribs were still visible but couldn't count them all the way down like he could before. Her shoulder blades were still far too defined. Will felt dirty, like some adolescent peeping tom but when she turned didn't try to hide what he was doing. Their eyes met and she wordlessly stepped on the scale while he wordlessly moved to stand in front of her.

"Hey, look at me."

"Getting past this means we are one step closer to getting back home and I really want to kiss you it wouldn't exactly be appropriate in public, at least not for long." He brushed his thumb along her chin.

"You're beautiful, no matter what that number says today." Emma started to duck her head in embarrassment but he caught it joking that she would just have to suffer and look at him.

_Today because I can't leave it opened ended, generalize and say that she is beautiful no matter what the scale regardless of the day. I want to, but I don't want to fall of the tight rope I've been working so hard to stay on._

Stepping back Will trusted her not to look right as he did, more than trusted. He knew. There had been something in her eyes and he left it as something because he didn't think word existed that could possibly condense what he had just seen. It was pure, unguarded, vulnerability mixed with guilt, denial and longing but more than any of that it was Emma, just Emma.

_102_

_It's higher, thank you._

As he raised his head Emma began to lower hers. He covered the number with his foot although it was obvious by her posture almost resigned in nature that she had no intention of figuring out what the scale read. Her shoulders shook with a silent sob. Tears he hadn't noticed were visible on her cheeks when she tried to look up only to close her eyes, ashamed.

"I've never felt beautiful Will, not really." Her eyes were still closed and her head was angled so that if she would open them she would be peering over his left shoulder.

* * *

Kristen had asked if she could come in not seconds after Emma's admission and Will had called out through the tightness in his throat that she still needed to get dressed abandoning the part about needing the extra time to collect himself. Emma's tears were gone like the act of dressing chased them away while his were being herded towards him by a very talented sheepdog named Guilt.

Emma had not reacted well to Kristen's comment that was probably meant to be encouraging about how pleased she was with her progress as she reassured him that a few slip-ups and the occasional re-emergence of a symptom were to be expected and that they could be worked through. Will was hesitant about that advice because Kristen was only working with half the story.

The drive home was silent, a semi-companionable one that left them both at ease with each other yet at war with their thoughts. Will was losing ground to another uphill battle. The same, drawn-out exhausting duel that had begun immediately after what Emma told him.

"_I've never felt beautiful Will, not really."_

Initially he had been concerned that she would segregate herself, cut herself off from him and any condolence he tried to offer but when she had curled up at his side, her cheek on his thigh, the same exposed position she had adopted during the last appointment his worry had disappeared but he never got the chance to relax.

The self-hatred had set in when Emma hadn't pursued the issue of not him disclosing her weight. Will had been ready for it even though she hadn't tried earlier knowing how hard it was for her to not know the number she used to check religiously. Instead, unaware, she had stabbed an arrow into his heart when she had lightly spoke against his leg seconds before Kristen entered that knowing the number would only make it worse, that it would only make her feel less attractive than she already did. Will hadn't done anything to indicate that he had heard not sure if she had intended him to or not but he was fairly certain she had. It didn't matter by the time he got in the car Guilt was shredding him to pieces and the hatred that had started as something manageable was out of control in the confines of his mind.

_She says she doesn't feel beautiful yet I've told her so many times…told…never shown._

Everything was replaying in his mind now from the night at the hospital to the events that took place yesterday and not once could he remember taking the time to make her feel cherished. Thinking about that made him feel sick. The words he had spoken to her yesterday, words derived from flirtatious games and lust intensified that sensation. Each time he started to convince himself that she must have been enjoying it just as much as him other memories would rise to the surface, ones where she had successfully kept things from him. Small, insignificant things like a life-threatening eating disorder. Emma had been able to hide that from him for so long. It was by no means a stretch that she could have been hiding this as well.

His ill-timed accusation this morning was becoming a prevalent incident for encore performances. She had admitted she shouldn't have lied but when she had supplied her reason he had backed off.

Most of the things she had done so far even those that had been her idea had always had the same outcome, her being worried about him even when he did tell her that his needs didn't matter and all of this was clicking into place later rather than sooner.

Just like so many other times he hadn't connected the dots in the correct order even when the pattern was obvious, numbered to hold his hand so he didn't get lost but somewhere along the way he had forgotten how to count and there were misplaced lines everywhere.

He glanced over at the woman gazing calmly out the passenger window. She was too afraid of rejection openly say what she desired leaving him with a guessing game. Emma always backtracked, erased the dots so even if he got it right the picture wouldn't make any sense. She would mention something and shy away from it too terrified of his potential reaction and her potential humiliation to do more than allude to it in passing unless he spurred her forward.

All he had done since she had told him she was ready was give in to his own lust and need for her that their constant proximity had created. So far he hadn't even made a half-assed effort to be tender and loving taking the alternate route instead. When they finally did have sex, _make love_ the forward woman he had come to know would fall away and an insecure, awkward, self-conscious one would step up. From their first date he had known that but he had also thought that she would be that way in any sexual situation and that definitely wasn't true. Those feelings would only make what he so badly wanted to be a wonderful experience complicated by having to side-step or confront all her insecurities as he came across them. Will didn't want their first time to be like that. He wanted it to be picture-perfect and seamless even if he did have to admit to himself that something like that wasn't possible with anyone's first time. The only way to aim in that general direction was to build up her confidence in how she saw herself or at the very least in how he saw her. A massive undertaking that contained a multi-step process he should have started long ago. He would climb the stairs patiently, waiting at every one to coax her to the next until they both reached the top and if another flight appeared once they got there they would tackle those as well.

As soon as the front door closed Will grabbed her purse and silently carried it into the kitchen setting it on the counter gently and just as quietly returning to stand inches away from Emma with his hand on the side of her face. A few stray hairs had fallen in front of her eyes and he softly brushed them away allowing the movement to become more of a caress.

"You're beautiful Emma," He brought his lips to hers in a tender kiss that he wouldn't allow to become anything more.

"Go out with me." He took a step back and searched her face grinning at her confusion.

"On a date, go out with me. Thursday evening."He was making her decision for her.

"Will you have to be on the road for sectionals by Friday afternoon. I don't want to be the reason you fall asleep and crash the van." She was right but he wasn't backing down.

"Trust me I never get any sleep before a competition anyways. I'm a non-stop bustle of nervous energy the entire night so I figured why not be a non-stop bustle of energy with you." _That sounded slightly suggestive, not the intent I had in mind._

Emma didn't seem to notice as a small smile took shape on her face, "Just a bustle? Not a nervous bustle?"

"Just a bustle because I won't have time to be doing last minute revisions I should never do or playing out worst-case scenarios. I'll be too wrapped up in having a wonderful evening with a beautiful woman. The kids will thank you. A couple times now I've actually expected a slushie from them after I reworked some choreography last minute."

"Will, all the stuff you said this morning, to Holly. That…you made me cry. I didn't know you had taught yourself so much." The only thing in her eyes now was sincerity.

"I only wanted to try and make her see things differently and guilty, I checked out a few books. Actually I think I left one sitting in a cupboard and it's probably overdue but let's move on to more important matters. I believe that I mentioned something about a kiss earlier today and I haven't gotten it yet."

"I returned it." She was still grinning at him.

"When did you find it?" _I knew I was going to regret that._

"I stumbled across it getting the stapler. I read some of it, the part you had bookmarked. It was the first time I was able to sort of view things through your eyes, like I didn't have all this first-hand knowledge. Thank you Will, thank you for trying so hard to understand. I know I don't make that easy and I know you get frustrated with me. I get frustrated with me." Will silenced her with a finger on her lips.

"First of all thank you for saving me fifty cents, second, I want to be able to do everything I can to help you and third, will you please shut up so I can cash in on my kiss. I've been waiting patiently for two hours."

Emma laughed as her lips brushed against his and Will smiled against her when she told him that he owed her a dollar.

* * *

A/N: and now I must resign myself to my take-home linguistic theory midterm...


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Angst ahead, SI trigger, I know I said it would be a one time thing but my muses thought otherwise. It's not pointless, it's leading somewhere. Enjoy your freebie physio lesson:)

Sincere apologies for any errors, pesky homework.

**

* * *

****Chapter Twenty-Eight**

**Emma's POV**

A plethora of noises that only come about when someone is sick served as her alarm clock. Crawling out of bed Emma cautiously made her way in the general direction of the hallway wanting to check on him but not bad enough that she wasn't put off by what she knew she would find.

Her foot halted mid-step as light flooded the narrow space. A bare-backed Will was crouched along the wall his face inches from a blue t-shirt. He managed to force out two syllables that resembled an apology before his body tensed again. Emma stood with her back pressed tightly against the same wall staring straight ahead inhaling through her mouth; exhaling through her nose staving off the urge to retrace her footsteps in cut-time. _Okay, it's not that bad…yes it is._

With determined movements she never lost contact with the hard surface behind her side-stepping closer to Will pinching her nose to block the smell that refused to grant her free passage. An uninterrupted couple moments had slipped in between his body's expulsion methods. _You can do this, just act the way he did with you._

"It's okay. Do you think you can stand, make it to the bathroom, maybe?" _Please, because I can't lift you and this is gross and please say just yes._

Will shook his head slightly grounding out that he wasn't sure. Emma grimaced and gave herself another pep talk as she carefully stepped around him keeping her eyes trained on the bathroom. A troubled moan spurred her forward and seconds later she was returning with the same waste basket he had gotten for her. Somehow she was able to keep her voice steady as she softly asked him to raise his head getting the trash can underneath him seconds before he threw up again. Will didn't move but his head dropped lower and Emma could feel the embarrassment radiating off of him. She hadn't ever seen him this vulnerable before.

"I'm going to call you in."

"Glee."

"Will, you're not going in. What use would you be in this state anyways?" Don't answer that." Emma tacked on hurriedly as he tried to protest before another bout of nausea.

He was in the bathroom by the time she got back from her go-around with Figgins, his shirt a soggy mess in the bathtub as he played every sick person's waiting game with his head hanging over the toilet.

"This is embarrassing." His voice was muffled by the bowl but still strained, raw.

Emma leaned against the counter parallel to him looking into a cupboard as she tried to give some of his dignity back.

"I believe someone once told me that everyone gets sick and I would say don't give it to me but I may have been the one you got it from but, um, I'm sorry…I can't stay in here. Is there anything you need?"

"I'm fine, eat." In three words an answer became a command.

Both of them were up late and even without this latest development their morning would have been rushed. Neither of them had gotten to sleep early and Will had forgotten to take his phone off vibrate which usually was enough to wake Emma up but not today. They had slept through two, well she had. He must have closed the door on his way out and although Emma appreciated his attempt to not disturb her if that was what had made the difference between his ending up in the hallway and not the bathroom she would have rather it stayed open.

"I don't have time. I'll get something I promise."

"Emma," whatever he had been intending to say was abruptly cut off.

"I'll get lunch okay? Just stop worrying." She snapped, irritated that he wouldn't leave the subject alone.

Emma pivoted on her heel and jogged back to the bedroom snatching up an outfit she had worn earlier in the week something she would never have done had she not had a couple things she wanted to do for Will before she left. By the time she had checked on him again, poured him a glass of water he insisted he didn't need and placed a neatly folded blanket at his side after he had shivered the clock had stolen her ten minutes and returned the it's own with interest. This was the first time in her life that she was going to be late.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will hadn't been this sick in years. He had been lying in bed since four in the morning stock still on his back barely breathing in the hope his nausea would go away. Three and a half hours, one t-shirt he had no desire to even try to salvage, a partially filled waste basket and countless minutes with his head in the toilet later, he couldn't believe he had actually thought that would work.

It was bad enough that he had waited too long to make a run for it but it was downright humiliating that his stupidity had reduced him to vomiting on his shirt hunched over on his hands and knees like a dog. Will didn't have a description for how he had felt when Emma found him and he doubted one existed.

A whole new kind of hell had introduced itself in the form of chunks of Doritos that he apparently had not chewed well enough floating in the water beneath him. The only reason he could figure that they were not digested yet was that they were the byproduct of a very late night snacking spree. Dread filled him every time he felt a wave of nausea. His throat felt like it was being torn to shreds and he kept waiting for the blood. About two minutes into the entire ordeal Will had decided that if someone were to magically appear and offer him a gun he would take it without a second thought and use it without a first one.

His stomach was calming down enough that he was beginning to tackle issues other than a worn-out mantra about making sure he chewed every chip thoroughly before he swallowed. Seconds after the door slammed Will cursed around the saliva that was still gathering in his mouth spitting into the water as he let his forehead rest on his arm that was splayed across the rim of the toilet. Time hadn't even entered his mind. She had been right, if she would have stayed to make something she would have been late although he was pretty sure she was going to be late as it was. Perhaps, if she hadn't raced around doing god knows what in the living room she could have fixed a bowl of oatmeal. Oatmeal, no matter how badly he wanted to wipe it off the face of the planet would be better than nothing any day.

An hour crept by before Will felt he could trust both his legs and his stomach to not force him back to the floor. The blanket Emma had left with him was now wrapped tightly around his shoulders one hand holding it closed across his chest. He took two shuffling steps and stumbled on the material that he hadn't noticed pool at his feet. Wearily he shot a glance in the direction of his shirt. He could take care of that later, preferably before Emma got home.

In the light of the hallway the details of his heat source were revealed. The entire thing was a light, pastel pink with sky-blue cartoon bunnies outlined in black scattered randomly over every last inch. Bringing one section up closer he groaned when he realized the fine print that separated the cartoons read, "You're no bunny until some bunny loves you." She had definitely done this on purpose and was probably still laughing about it. Will hadn't ever seen the blanket before and he had once meticulously folded every last one in the linen closet after his magic trick of pulling one out while the others remained in place had been a magnificent failure. Emma hadn't been home and he had taken a great source of pride in the fact that she had opened the door to place a freshly laundered towel on the bottom shelf and hadn't reacted. Minimal prodding and a sheepish expression on her part when he had caught her standing in a sea of unfolded blankets after he had finally given into his need for a glass of water at one in the morning revealed that she had noticed but didn't want to hurt his feelings. Will had been impressed that she had been able to wait so long before fixing what she probably considered to be a colossal disaster. Everything about that moment cemented it as one of his favorite "Emma moments" even if she had shooed him away when he offered to help.

_Emma._

Will allowed the couch to support both his exhausted body and his tiresome thoughts as he snuggled tighter into the embrace of smiling bunnies thankful that no one was lurking about with a camera to capture what would be an excellent source of blackmail.

Trust was fast becoming an issue he found himself straddling far more than he was comfortable with and he couldn't even claim that he was neutral about it like the adage usually implied. A lot of things didn't quite fit the norm in his life. His neutrality had somehow become confused with jumping to one side only to jump to the other before finally sitting in defeat on top.

She had promised she would get lunch and then promised again without the actual word which didn't really mean anything but when he thought about how Emma's aversion to school food and her reluctance to eat much of anything outside a few select foods it meant everything. Faculty members weren't allowed to leave the building on their lunch break and even if she could her only real options were fast food restaurants and a subway that to her was one in the same. Will knew it was going to be a problem despite what she had said earlier and he needed to find a solution.

A shiver that Emma had coined as spastic shook his body while a sneezing that was doing a splendid job of convincing him that it would never end robbed him of any mental functioning other than wondering what he could find to wipe his nose with. A floral-patterned box of Kleenex, his cell, the remote and his ipod were all on the stand next to him resting neatly on top of the notebook he used for Glee. Peering over the edge of the couch he found the trash can that was usually beside the bed within arms' reach.

Emma had never been the one to take care of him and as a man he should be gruff and stubbornly refuse any aid she offered, but he was Will and deep down he was a kid who only wanted to be cared for when sick. Terri's version of comfort was something he was surprised he hadn't sought therapy for. The main menu for Singing in the Rain popped up on the TV as soon as he hit power. _I'm not allowing myself to be coddled…oh give it up. Yes I am._

Make 'em Laugh had never failed to cause real life to fade into the background usually because he imagined himself doing the choreography but the song was on the verge of getting a down-slip today. There had to be something he could do to ensure that Emma ate.

* * *

Wrapping up the stray details that had been lost along the way Will panned the room for anything that would redirect his attention from the idea he had just set in motion that could either prove very beneficial or more than potentially hazardous.

Blindly he groped for his ipod smiling to himself when he noticed the ear buds were wrapped nicely around the device, something he never took the time to do. Will turned onto his side plopping his notebook on the small amount of cushion visible scrolling through his playlists with a song already in mind.

It took him five scrolls to realize that his sectionals playlist was absent. During a tedious scroll through he had found its replacement. There were no songs behind the playlist labeled "Stop it." Either he had complained one too many times about his tendency to over-review songs or one of the kids had gone ballistic in Emma's office which was not even an inch out of the realm of possibility. The pros outweighed the cons just like they had the other morning. _She's not syncing my ipod again, ever. _

Unlike his student days Will took detailed, almost meticulous notes about Glee club. When he had been in high school if he left a class with a paragraph or a Roman numeral one complete with an A and B he was having a good day. Music was far more motivating than world history and if he were to flip through some of his old class material that he saved that was evident then. The pages were filled with song lyrics the ambitions of a young man who saw himself on Broadway, recording an album, being a somebody instead of a Lima Loser. The notebooks like his toy dogs were stuffed in a box in his mother's attic. One of the boxes contained something he was sorry he lost, a piece of his childhood. The other contained something he was sorry he never had, a piece of the future that he couldn't quite give up on even if the only link he had were a few scribbled lines in the middle of Algebra notes. Will thought about things like that as he passed people on the street, what things they might have saved as a reminder of what they had been at one time, young, hopeful, invincible and ready to take the world by storm. He scanned their faces in check-out lines or movie theatres wondering who might have been fortunate enough to have obtained some piece of a disillusioned future. He would ponder expectations, whether or not it hurt worse to set them low and forever deny yourself or too high and never reach them. Sometimes he felt like a liar when he preached to the kids about following their dreams. Years ago he had been sitting on those risers as his college director told them to go out and take what they wanted. Teenagers were impressionable, easily motivated by things an adult wouldn't give the time of day and just as careless with those their elders upheld with the utmost importance. Some of them might get just what they want, Rachel especially. She was fiery, determined and had the personality to make it in show business. The others he wanted to believe would all head off to college, find a career that they loved and still dabble in music now and again. No matter what he told himself it was a given that some of his kids would never make it out of Lima, Ohio.

There was a crease where the upper cover had gotten bent back that he didn't remember but it wasn't impossible. Carelessly cramming things into book bags was a student habit he hadn't ever felt inclined to break.

Will shrugged and opened to the second page his head leaning against the armrest, eyes on the ceiling. Not writing on the first page was an Emma-dubbed "Will quirk." She never had accepted his explanation about only doing it because the first page was always the first one to tear out and it was a surprisingly logical move on his part compared to some things he did. On a rainy, lazy afternoon Emma had ripped the first page that protected his lesson plan for the week that, as usual, was unrealistically ambitious. Her look of, "you've got to be kidding me," interspersed only with a few fumbled attempts to ask him questions about the symptoms of OCD as if she were diagnosing him as he had torn out all nine pages and dutifully recopied them with one blank, college-ruled piece of paper at the front. His revenge had been reenacted the following morning when he had cleaned out his three-hole punch just outside the doorway to her office taking advantage of her back being turned to retrieve a folder. Excitedly he had called for her to come listen to a song. Emma hadn't been able to set one foot past the circular scraps of Spanish quizzes and sheet music. Will had thrown her questions back at her in more detail courtesy of the library's copy of the DSM IV. The practical joke had taught him something valuable; in certain situations, especially those he plotted she was able to make light of the limitations her disorder imposed.

Refocusing his attention the half-hearted smile that had pushed its way through his illness induced haze vanished. Emma had left him with the wrong notebook, he wasn't even aware this one existed. Just like he had done when he had covertly watched her fix oatmeal Will lied through his teeth that he wasn't snooping, that if the first page hadn't said what it did he would have closed it.

_I Killed her_

_I killed my mother_

_I held her hand_

_I told her I loved her_

_She was already dead_

_I deserved that_

_The last time I remember holding her hand I was seven years old and we were walking past cattle. That doesn't apply anymore. The last time I will ever remember holding my mother's hand will be as I watched her die. _

It was good that she was getting her thoughts, therapeutic Dan had told him. As an outsider it was conceivable that they were more troubling to him than her but given the number of times and the months that these thoughts had been spanning Will didn't believe that, not for a second. Downplaying them, writing them off as something to keep irregular tabs on was just one more slippery slope.

Curiosity wasn't enough to move him to turn the page even if he could see the faint outline of blue ink pressing through the paper. Will didn't exactly regret what he had read but on some level he wished he hadn't seen it. Many nights he had laid awake wondering what it would be like to live with guilt, misplaced or not that he was responsible for ending his mother's death. The scenario never played out long and it always ended with his arms wrapped protectively around Emma like they might chase hers away.

Will latched onto the waste basket in the nick of time as he dry-heaved the non-existent contents of his stomach wishing the words and all their implications would follow suit.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Thirty minutes separated Emma from the moment of time she longed to confiscate and the lunch she had promised Will. The second hand remained impervious to her requests. It ticked on subtracting units of time that when added together equaled a dilemma she still hadn't solved. Rifling through her purse Emma pressed and held two. A little more procrastination couldn't hurt and maybe his voice would put her at ease.

A very groggy Will picked up after three rings.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

He sighed, "Like a steaming pile of excrement warmed over as you would say, shit warmed over in my vernacular. You woke me up. I'm blaming you for my immune system not having a chance to regroup."

Emma shook her head, even when he was sicker than a dog he was still capable of making jokes.

"That's sort of a myth you know. You're immune system doesn't repair itself much while you sleep, it does that more during the day really."

Emma waited for his response and received silence in its place.

"Are you still there?" She hoped he hadn't dozed off on the phone.

"Yep, I'm just sitting here with barely contained anticipation for the physiological reason that I know is coming."

_How can he retain a sense of humor and sound amused? I just get annoyed at everything._

"Does it bother you that I do that?" She hadn't ever considered that and it wasn't taking long for the fear to sprout roots in her psyche.

"Nah, I think it's-"

"Cute," Emma finished for him.

"Actually, in the interest of variety I was going to say it is ambrosial." Emma could picture his pleased smile.

"Did you look that up?" _I know you did because it doesn't exactly apply but I'll let you have it._

"No, give me some credit…maybe." Will's attempt to sound pouty left her picturing a child spouting off facts gleaned from a day at school trying to pass them off as their own.

"Okay then," Will coughed a couple times, his voice a bit raspy when he continued, "convince me that my logic is flawed."

Emma taunted, "…and what's in it for me? What do I get if I do?"

"A romantic evening out with a hopefully recovered, strikingly handsome gentleman who will dazzle a certain lady with his extensive knowledge of physiological psychology, sound fair?"

_How can one person be so cognizant when they are sick? I can't string sentences together and I would never be able to come off as suave._

"That sounds promising but you had better listen up if you want to impress her. She has high standards." Emma began mentally arranging the information overload she was going to bombard him with, making sure it would be a little more in-depth than it needed to be.

With a cool, detached, professional tone Will told her that he had a notebook and pen at the ready.

"First of all there is a small structure in the hypothalamus, which I'm going to assume you remember from our last discussion that is responsible for keeping your body on a twenty-four hour cycle. Second, there is a pathway that responds to light but I'll get to that later. The structure if removed and placed in a pitri dish will actually continue to cycle showing that it doesn't need the brain. Melatonin is-" Will cut her off with an indignant tone.

"How come I don't get the name of this structure or the pathway? I have a lot hinged on this lesson I'll have you know."

"You wouldn't remember, and if you massacred it you would only lose points."

"That's not fair, try me. I've successfully memorized some very obscure musical terms in Latin. I can manage this." If Emma hadn't seen him throwing up and his speech wasn't occasionally cut off by bouts of coughing she would have doubted he was actually sick.

Emma giggled into the phone. Secretly she had been hoping he would ask. His facial expressions when she rattled off neuropsychology jargon were Kodak moments times ten. What he didn't know is that the words could usually be broken down, their name derived from the surrounding areas and structures of the brain. As far as she was concerned she had no reason to make him aware of that.

"The structure is known as the Superchiasmatiac Nucleus and Retinohypothalamic is the pathway. Happy now?"

Her giggle slid into an easy laugh as Will butchered the words in the most adorable fashion before he sighed and told her to continue in a haughty voice informing her that he didn't need her fancy jargon to supplement his mission.

"In the case of the pathway a gland secretes Melatonin that once at a critical level puts you to sleep, that's the reason you get tired about two to three hours before your normal bed time, it's the cycle your body has grown accustomed to. That cycle by the way cannot be disrupted, they even put a group of people in a cave and they still stayed relatively close to a twenty-four hour cycle, varying only by an hour. Oh, and a freebie, the worst thing you can do to fall asleep is to take sleeping pills. They depress the brain and interfere with your sleep cycle which is really fascinating by the way! There are four stages, most people know that but did you know that Stage one is only called that when you are falling asleep and every time your brain gets back it's known as REM? During Stages one and two the brain is firing like crazy which nullifies the sleeping to rest the brain. It's more active than it is when you are awake. If you lift someone's eyelids during REM their eyes will be rolled back but you will see them moving. Isn't that fascinating?" Ninety-percent of everything she had just said was not in the lecture she had planned out in her mind.

"I don't want to know how you know that and I thought I was getting the reason why sleep won't help me and my miserable state not the entire physiological basis of sleep itself."

Emma loved the way Will sounded when she talked to him about something that excited her. He always seemed genuinely impressed something Emma treasured from the man that far surpassed her in so many ways.

"My dad was the unwilling, occasionally unaware subject of many physio experiments and you're getting there be patient." Emma barreled on, "Stage one has been linked to learning and memory and these large spikes called sleep spindles form in the theta waves in the portion of the brain that had been engaged in learning something new. So, you see, studying or learning something before bed really does make sense. During stages three and four the brain _is_ actually resting and all of your large muscles are paralyzed courtesy of your cortex. It's believed this is what keeps people from acting out their dreams, only adults with brain damage to their cortex do that, and children only do it because their cortex isn't fully developed." _I didn't mean to tell him that either._

"I've always wanted to know that I'm paralyzed while I sleep." Will deadpanned.

"During REM your dreams make sense and they are in color. The random, illogical dreams occur in non-REM. Consensus for the moment is that we sleep to dream, to allow our brain to process our days and your immune system only makes minimal repairs during all of this. Oh yeah and when they did studies on people they found that it is more common to dream of a stranger you just met than someone you know well. So don't tell me you dream about me every night. I won't believe you." Emma was actually out of breath.

Will tried to sound annoyed but came off as respectful, "All of that and you could have told me the last couple lines?"

"Context is everything Will and what if she asked you to back your claim about the immune system?"

"She won't, I won't let her. I'll kiss her before the words leave her mouth and then she'll forget. Problem; solved, dignity; intact." Even though he now sounded like his nose was plugged and his voice had grown hoarse his comment still made Emma blush.

Emma had been incapable of producing a response when Will had casually mentioned that it was lunch time. He never asked what she was planning on eating. She wouldn't have had an answer for that either.

* * *

**Sue's POV**

Sue stood in the hall listening intently unnoticed by the guidance counselor confident it would remain that way unless the teachers' threat of having eyes in the back of their head actually became true.

She knew the woman had a bachelor's in psychology but she had no idea that behind that nervous façade and timid verbal exchanges lurked such a shrewd mind, capable of grasping an entire field most people scoffed at because they thought it was frivolous. If those people were standing next to her right now they would eat their words. Sue was eating hers. Squaring her shoulders and falling back into character Sue strode in as soon as Emma said good-bye.

"You know Ginger, that spiel was rather impressive and in a stunningly odd twist, actually useful to me. Now when my Cheerios complain and ask to go to the nurses' office to lie down when they feel sick I can have an actual reason for saying no. I can make them work through a simple case of the sniffles or a debilitating illness and better, I can demand they know the routines the next day because, as you pointed out, the brain is working through its day."

"Sue, wh-what are you doing here?" She was afraid and Sue wanted to drop her façade.

"You're insignificant other unkindly informed me that you didn't have time to pack a lunch. The mere reality of my doing a favor for Will Schuester is revolting. I agreed only because he agreed first to submit himself to eight hours of doing whatever I say. I'm compiling a list as we speak. He won't last thirty minutes."

_Translation: Will is worried about you skipping a meal. I'm worried about you because I know you had that decision made before you walked out the front door. The list I made is about what foods you consider safe and I spent all last period searching them out, in two different stores. Do you realize he has to do that when he shops? He's a wonderful guy. Neither of us wants you to lose the progress you have made. You're better than this disorder. I wish I could tell you that. I wish you would believe me but I've been down this road and I know you won't._

Sue stalked over to a chair yanking it away from the desk plopping down with a forced irritated sigh. She deposited the brown, slightly crinkled paper bag in front of Emma. The woman's brown eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion flickering from her to the bag lingering on the one she viewed as a threat. Sitting just feet away from the woman, watching her panic over the food intensify buoyed by her presence Sue felt her resolve start to crumble.

"Why are you still here?" Her voice wavered, wrought with insecurities layered with fear and wrapped in a brand of shame that only an eating disorder could lay claim to.

Despite her verbal fragility there was a defensive streak piercing the question. Sue took no offense, it wasn't aimed at her but she would have gladly taken it, bottled it, thrown it away, anything so the woman across from her would stop directing it at herself. That's what she was doing, berating herself for losing control of the situation.

Countless images combined with emotions that seemed to have no concept of a threshold slammed into her with the intensity of a physical blow.

Her parents sitting her down, their eyes filled with concern after she screamed at them to just leave her the hell alone. The worried expression of her cheerleading coach after she had clasped her on the shoulder for a great half-time show, the sensation of that touch still burned today, a permanent part of her because the paranoia she had succumbed to had brought about the first of many panic attacks. More images bombarded her, the coach with her futile attempts to calm her down as the entire squad stood dumb and mute, the heated appointment with a psychiatrist a result of her unknowingly repeating that she was fat.

Even smells were flooding back. How the eating disorder clinic reeked of anti-septics and nauseating food. The torture of being forced to eat, of having her control forcefully stripped away by women in scrubs, the look of disdain on the face of one sour nurse when she had eaten nothing all day. Nutrient blend shakes sliding down her throat, the weight of the glass in her hand. Group therapy, the first real friend she had ever made, the girl who had willingly defended her and died a week later of a heart attack.

Jasmine had been her name and they had forged a tight bond. Two weeks before her death they had been joking in an art therapy class that their pictures had probably be of something cheerful…the almost childish exchange of her sketch of a teddy bear for Jasmine's rudimentary painting of a sunset. A sunset far more precious than any that Mother Nature could provide with a hidden message on the back meant only for her.

_I can see it in your eyes that you're freaking out about the ice cream thing, so if you eat a little bit so will I, and no cheating or over-exercising or trying not to eat for three days before. You have no idea how much of myself I see in you. You're a beautiful girl with so much going for you. (Wow…that just sounded like I called myself awesome.) I would hate to see you end up where I am. Don't ever feel alone, because you're not._

Underneath was a phone number with instructions for Sue to call if she ever needed anything. They had been playing a game of Uno late one night when Jasmine had suddenly clutched at her chest, the heart monitor she always had to wear bleeping wildly. Sue had caught her before she hit the ground, smoothing her hair alternating between whispering that she would be okay and yelling frantically for help. She had watched helplessly as every resuscitation technique failed. Jasmine's face had turned towards her and she would forever be haunted by her lifeless eyes.

Two weeks later she had determinedly worked through a bowl of ice cream. That was the last time she was ever hospitalized, it was her third and final relapse. It sickened Sue that it had taken something so extreme for her to realize what she was doing, for her to want to change. It scared the hell out of her that the man doing all the right things for Emma wouldn't be enough. In bed one night she had finally allowed herself to admit that he wouldn't have been enough to pull her away from Anorexia, at least not indefinitely, but she wasn't Emma.

She regarded the woman before her with more sympathy than she had ever felt for anyone. The emotions dancing in Emma's eyes told her everything she needed to know only because she knew what to look for. She was starting to voluntarily surrender to an inner struggle Sue knew like the back of her hand.

_I can't do this anymore. _

"…because he asked me to stay, to make sure you ate. He's worried about you Emma, we both are." The red-head glanced up sharply at the use of her first name and Sue could see the anger forming. "Don't be mad with him. There are things you don't know. I could pinpoint every thought that is going through your mind right now if you asked. I've experienced them all. I've been where you are. For three years I played, repeatedly lost and finally won the game you're immersed in. I won't tell you the details until you're ready, if you want to know," she softened her voice, "I know my words are pale in comparison to what you are feeling. I'm not going to force you to eat. I won't even tell you to eat for him if you can't do it for yourself because that only works for so long and I can see it in your eyes," Sue thought back to Jasmine's note, "that you are past that point. I'm not going to stay even though I promised him I would. My being here wouldn't make a difference…Emma, I know the two choices you are warring with, that either one will only result in more self-hatred. I'm not going to preach to you. You'll make up your mind whether I'm here or not. I will admit that I have a good idea but that's only because I know what I would have done and I did it a million times over. This is not the end all break all. You can still beat this. You're not alone. Remember that, please."

Sue stood up proffering what she hoped was a comforting smile as she wordlessly dropped three bagged items into Emma's purse and walked out her head tucked to her chest while she pretended to rub her temple so no one would see the tears sliding down the almighty Sue Sylvester's cheeks as she permitted herself to delve into the mind of a confused, desperate teenage girl. Back in her office Sue slowly closed the door, sat down and pulled out the journal reading it for the first time in her adult life cover to cover, not just for herself but for Emma, for the man she would shortly be talking with. Emma would hate her the same way Sue had loathed the person that at the time, Sue believed had committed the ultimate betrayal. It took a while but she had forgiven her friend for confiding in Tanner. It had been his support in combination with Jasmine's death that had ultimately pushed her through. Tanner had been nothing more than a close friend but Emma had more than that with Will. She had a relationship Sue still wished she would have had back then, identical to how she felt now. She had spoken nothing but truths to the conflicted woman, the same ones she would divulge to Will. Emma would have to make up her mind on her own but once she did his unyielding confidence in her would prove invaluable.

Her sick days were never used for such, often turning into personal days when Figgins ordered her to take them. He almost sounded happy when she made up symptoms and told him she was heading home.

Will had rambled on during his phone call about how their therapist had called in sick with symptoms mirroring his. He had been frustrated because he had convinced Emma to go without him. If that whole development hadn't bubbled up and boiled over Sue could get away with putting this off until after school. Emma's presence would only hinder things. She and Will would end up playing a word game, rounding out the edges on a conversation that needed to be jagged and blunt. Sue had debated calling him but had dismissed it in seconds. She wanted this to be face to face, personal. The matter of his being sick was of little importance. If she did get catch whatever he had she would finally use her sick days for their allotted purpose and honestly she wouldn't mind the break.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma didn't realize her mouth was hanging open until the Twilight Zone Sue was no longer visible through her glass-encased office. She had started out as Sue, slicing her down with cutting insults, gone through all the right motions but out of nowhere the cold-hearted, ruthless demeanor Emma had long ago stopped viewing as a coping mechanism had been discarded in a second and the first thing she had thought of was the donut Sue had taken that morning in the lunch room. She had done it on purpose to spare her from having to eat it.

The myriad of emotions Emma had watched play across the older woman's face as she had seemed a million miles away, recalling things she could only speculate on were nowhere near the woman who had first entered her office. Her face had become sympathetic as she spoke and the hint of a smile she had shot in her direction before she walked out had been comforting, emphatic, understanding. Above all of that Sue had respected her wishes despite her promise to Will. Everything she had said had been spot on.

Will hadn't been acting out of desperation when she had overhead him talking with Sue, at least not completely. He had been seeking insight, clues on what to do not ranting about what a bother she was like Emma had instantly believed. The sound of his voice as he called after her was as clear as the clacking of her heels reverberating off the lockers. He had tried to explain and she hadn't given him the chance, one more selfish deed, one more failure. All of her shortcomings were mocking her today, her incessant inability to stop disappointing him at every turn, the girl who had angrily retorted that she hadn't been any help driving home her shame of a profession, the tug of war between one disorder and another that she couldn't win

_You're mom died._

"No, she didn't." Emma denied in a cold tone.

_Yes she did._

With that exchange, she snapped.

Snatching the bag Sue had left behind Emma stuffed it into her purse as she propelled herself out of her office and down the hall with long, determined strides muttering under her breath. Even though she had willingly made up her mind she clutched the decision to her chest like someone might appear out of thin air and rip it away.

"I seem to be failing at everything else so why not this to." Her tone was venomous, dismissive, angry and justifying.

"Who cares, I'll just get fat," She laughed bitterly as her hand connected with the door to a restroom that was out of the way, rarely used.

She rushed to the stall farthest from the door still too ashamed to let someone see her like this. The lock had barely slid shut before she had the bag open using too much force almost tearing it in half in her haste. She didn't bother to put toilet paper on the rim, nothing mattered but the food she was now cramming into her mouth. It was tasteless but she could detect the smell of each individual item with striking clarity.

Five minutes was how long it took before the reality of what she had just done paralyzed her. The thought of the germs on the floor, in the toilet, migrating onto her blouse she had discarded on the tile she hated even walking over were non-existent and she almost laughed at the absurdity of her disordered cure for Mysophobia. Tears mixed with undigested food she forced herself to watch discolor the water never once grimacing when it splashed against her skin as she threw up the meal she had once shared with Will atop a hay bale without a care in the world.

* * *

**Rachel's POV**

Rachel rushed into the bathroom not usually frequented by any of the students. She despised using public restrooms. She halted just inside the door when she caught site of another person groaning to herself at her misfortune until she recognized the sounds of someone being sick and the Mary Jane's that told her who it was.

"Ms. P, are you okay?"

Her eyes widened in shock when she detected a muffled curse just as quickly replaced with a sympathetic frown. She would probably curse too if someone walked in on her in such a vulnerable state.

"Fine, Rachel. Just something not agreeing with me." Her voice was hoarse, the universal byproduct of vomiting.

"Do you want me to call Mr. Schue? I know he's sick too but he would come get you."

"No!" Rachel recoiled at the guidance counselors' sharp tone.

"…um okay, well I really have to pee. I'll hurry up I promise."

If she hadn't been holding it since first period Rachel would have gone to another bathroom to give the woman some privacy. She headed for the nearest stall moving as fast as she could her eyes wandering underneath the gap when Ms. P puked again noticing the light green shirt next to her feet.

_She would never do that._

Rachel's eyes slid closed as the pieces slid together; the shirt lying on the floor, the curse when she had asked Ms. P if she was alright, her adamant refusal when she had offered to call Mr. Schue.

_She doesn't want him to know because this is intentional._

In the relative privacy of a nearby janitors closet Rachel scrolled through her contact list praying that she wasn't doing the wrong thing, that she wouldn't make things worse, that she would just get something right for once in her life.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will groaned in frustration as he felt around for his phone wondering why Rachel would be calling and how she had managed to interrupt the one time he had been able to fall asleep.

"Rach, what's-" He silenced his own question with a yawn.

"I woke you up. I'm sorry. I just, I think this is something you need to know and I'm not trying to make things worse or make you mad or-"Will cut her off.

"What is it Rachel?"

"I had to pee really bad, "Will rolled his eyes at the girls' effortless ability to supply too much information," and I found Ms. P. in that one bathroom no one uses. At first I thought she might have what you do but her shirt was on the ground and she told me not to call," Will had a fairly good idea where this was going, "…and it was right after lunch." Rachel finished softly, timidly.

He sighed replaying her words and the meanings buried within them.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called. This was stupid, just forget it. I'm sorry. Don't get mad at her because told you, please." Her voice was rapid-fire fast like it was every time she doubted herself.

"Rachel, no don't apologize. I'm glad you called, really. "Will emphasized the last word, "I won't get mad at her I promise, I'm not mad at you either. Thank you for telling me. I'm sorry you got drug into this." It wasn't her issue.

Rachel told him it was fine, that she only wanted to help and Will lightened the mood a bit by talking to her about Sectionals not hanging up until he detected the trace of a smile in her voice.

* * *

**Sue's POV**

Her car had been parked out front of the apartment complex for ten minutes now, the notes in her pocket just as heavy as the conversation she was playing out in her mind trying to prepare herself for any possibility. This wasn't going to get any easier by procrastinating. Sue opened her car door walking to the front door as if her feet were made of lead. Ascending the stairs she stopped in front of the door that separated her from a sticky situation thinking that if she turned around right now she still had a chance to avoid it, knocking three times without budging because that wasn't really an option.

* * *

**Will's POV**

It was official. Everyone in his life was conspiring against him and the sleep he felt he needed despite Emma's spiel this morning. Shuffling to the door he rubbed his eyes and blinked a couple times when he saw Sue standing before him.

Moving aside he let her in still wondering if this wasn't a very elaborate dream in REM according to Emma because it was in color although he wasn't exactly sure it was making sense yet.

"Will, we need to talk…about Emma." Her tone was serious indicating that she would do the talking if he refused to partake.

_I've received enough bad news for the day. Please just leave._

"Have a seat," He motioned towards the couch apologizing as he cleared off a space almost wishing she would tease him about the blanket that he wrapped around his shoulders deciding it was better than freezing to death.

She didn't.

"I found these the other day," Will watched with bleary eyes as Sue produced a crumpled pile of post-it notes from her left pocket handing them over without further explanation.

He shuffled through them. They were in Emma's handwriting. Confusion clouded his already foggy brain until he noticed the check marks, flipping through them again to make sure his count of four was accurate. A small spike of anger sparked into existence.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you lie?"

Sue glanced down, "I made a list too and I had more things crossed off than she did and I didn't relapse. I didn't want to drive a wedge between you two. I didn't want to be the reason you confronted her about something that might not mean anything." His anger had dissipated by the second sentence.

"Then why are you here? Why are you showing them to me now?" _I don't want the answer just tell me you had a change of heart. _

Her eyes met his, serious, resolute, concerned.

"I didn't stay to watch her eat. I could see it in her eyes Will. I knew what she was going to do before she did because I've done it. I knew it before I set foot in that office. She's terrified she's losing control and I hate to tell you this but you're no longer enough to keep her from falling back down. It's not because you aren't trying or you are doing the wrong things it's just that the decision has to be hers and so far it hasn't been. She's been doing this for you, not herself. Until she makes up her own mind she won't be able to break free. When she does your support will be invaluable, vital. She threw up the food. I didn't have to see it to know." Her admission was quiet.

"I know," Sue's brow knit in confusion at his words, "Rachel called me. She walked in on her."

"She's a good kid behind that diva attitude she throws at everyone," now it was his turn to look confused, "Hey, I know when someone is only trying to help."

"I was impulsive at this stage, when I felt like I was incapable of maintaining the control that had once been so effortless. That's why she purged. I know you think I'm putting words in her mouth but trust me I'm not. She will volley back and forth between trying to regain that control and telling herself it's hopeless, that's she's too weak, that's what results in the impulsivity, those severe shifts in the thought process. She'll hate herself afterwards and she will have a good day by her standards only to ruin it, also by her standards, the next day or the one after that. The hatred will only become more intense until she can't stand herself. This is a tad personal but I'm only warning you, it happened with me and this was only from a friend. She will get to a point where she won't want you to touch her, intimately or otherwise."Sue congratulated herself for not tripping over those words." The paranoia about your feeling how fat she thinks she has become will cause her to withdraw."

A defeated sigh escaped his lips as Will slumped into the back of the couch pulling the blanket tighter as if it would somehow deflect Sue's words. _Is that why she didn't tell me her period stopped? _

"Are you saying that she is relapsing?" Will still found himself mentally telling her not to answer though he knew she would.

"I'm saying she's dangerously close, that it wouldn't take much. She's already taken the first few steps in her mind. For me, the first time I did, it was the result of a stressful day I felt I had lost control of. An outcome I could have prevented if I had still had the eating disorder to uphold against everyone else."

Will wanted to cry, scream, punch something, curse the world and hold Emma close, protectively like he could prevent all of the bad things her first-grade self had hated herself for not being able to stop. He couldn't prevent them either, not all of them, not this one.

"Emma accidently left me the wrong notebook. I think she thought it was the one I take notes in for Glee." Will turned and pulled it off the coffee table opening it to the second page, handing it to Sue.

"She's talked to me about this before after I heard her one night in Virginia arguing with no one that she didn't kill her mom, telling them to stop talking like she had for quite a while before saying even if she knew it was true. That same night she whispered a confession that when I mentioned it she told me she wished I hadn't heard. She said that she made the decision to take her mom off life support because she knew that he, her father, couldn't, that she didn't want him to live with that burden even though he was in his eighties and she was carrying it in her thirties. That's a major component isn't it?"

"If she truly believes that, it's more than a major component. It's a driving force."

"There's more," Will's voice cracked.

"That run in with a guy in Virginia that I mentioned, I found this email exchange in her room from when she was sixteen that wasn't appropriate at all especially considering he was in his mid-thirties, married and had children. To Emma it had been a simple game, some sort of virtual trip but he fabricated situations that more than alluded to having sex. I got mad and she defended him saying that he had meant so much to her at the time, drawing on the fact that she had played along and she had although I don't think she really knew what she was doing, at least the part about how he shouldn't have been saying those things. I let them meet in a park like a fucking idiot. Emma didn't want me there so I went to the store but made her take her phone. She called, I heard him talking to her, saying things…when I got there he had her pressed up against a tree. I beat the crap out of him until the police got there. She had been teaching me how to ride a horse and we took a break for lunch. She tried to fix oatmeal but let me take it away at first refusing to tell me why, saying she didn't want me to get mad. I told her I wouldn't and I didn't, not at her. She told me that this guy had told her that I probably felt disgusted when I touched her but that he would never feel that way. In her mind she twisted that like she does so many things, saying that if she was skinny enough it might keep other men away. Why was I so fucking stupid? I never should have left her alone with him. Every day I have to live with that guilt, every time I think about us being intimate I think about how much I probably intensified her insecurities about how I feel about her. He was right you know. I did avoid parts of her body, god that hurts. That fucking bastard was right. I go out of my way to not do it now but I screwed up again in these last couple days." Will looked up at Sue, "please just tell me to shut up if you don't want to know any of this."

"Oh a few weeks of nightmares only mean I will be crabbier towards you," Sue smiled nodding for him to continue.

"She's…forward, more so than I ever thought she would be and it still doesn't exactly make sense but a few things clicked into place when she admitted that she had never felt beautiful. You said earlier she would withdraw, is the fact that she seems to be avoiding, and I haven't helped in that department, any sort of intimacy that doesn't qualify as…gentle related to that." Will groaned, "God you don't want to know this, you know what, forget I asked.

Sue ignored him telling him that how Emma was acting was exactly what she would have done because she would have been too insecure to let someone in like that. Will was still slightly confused until she threw out the next half of her answer.

"She probably is avoiding it because if she allowed things to be taken slowly you would have the time to really examine her body, to notice all the faults she's too embarrassed for you to see whether they are there or not."

_So I was on the right track._

"Why do I keep messing everything up?" Closing his eyes he ran his hand through his hair feeling like his world was caving in.

"No one's perfect, and you're not giving yourself enough credit."

Her words didn't help but he appreciated them anyways, storing them away for a day when they might actually mean something.

The clock behind Sue told him the school day was almost over. He couldn't believe they had been talking so long.

"Sue, wait, "Will said softly just before she closed the door completely.

He pulled her into a tight hug wrapping his arms around her back. She stiffened in his embrace telling him it had been a long time since anyone had shown her this kind of affection. He didn't let her go until she relaxed bringing her arms up to mimic the position of his.

"Thank you, for everything," He whispered softly into her ear, releasing his hold certain that he saw the beginnings of a tear as she simply nodded taking a few steps backward her eyes conveying the thanks she couldn't verbalize.

Before she turned to head down the stairs she told him his hair looked terrible her voice cracking as she offered a weak smile and Will offered his own as the tear he thought he saw rolled down her cheek.

* * *

It was a sly maneuver, probably one that could be classified under wrong and manipulative but he was going to do it anyways. Collecting his thoughts and clearing his throat he hit the button that would connect him directly with Emma.

Emma answered within two rings, "Hey there, I'm not feeling up to cooking tonight, would you mind picking me up a cheeseburger from McDonald's or something? You can fix something for yourself here. I know you don't want fast food."

She hesitated and he momentarily felt bad.

"…um…okay, yeah sure. I'll be home in a little bit." She sounded shaken.

Will thanked her, sat down on the couch and waited. He hadn't tested her like this since the cookie incident but some of the things Sue had said wouldn't leave him alone and he wanted to know what Emma would do about the situation he had just forced her into.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Standing in line at a McDonald's a few blocks away from her apartment complex Emma felt strangely confident considering the disaster that had resulted from her last encounter with the restaurant.

She smiled politely at the girl behind the counter ordering a quarter-pounder with cheese for Will with relative ease, the words sliding out of her mouth like she was a regular customer. They were busy so it took a while before the food got to her and she had gotten all the way to the car, unlocked the door, threw the bag of grease onto the passenger seat and turned around, one thing on her mind as she walked through the automatic doors for the second time in fifteen minutes.

Another fifteen minutes later Emma was taking huge bites out of her own quarter-pounder relishing in the taste. Saddened when she realized it was almost half gone before she got out of the parking lot. Ketchup and mustard littered her shirt but just like in the bathroom she didn't care. Pulling into a turn lane she went left where she should have gone right turning up the radio as she happily sang along switching on her turn signal while she waited impatiently for the oncoming traffic to clear as she stared at a large Wal-Mart sign.

The extreme lighting didn't bother her like it had before. She barely even registered it making a beeline for the candy aisle. A voice that was quickly silenced told her that if she was going to do this she could at least choose healthier foods. What she ate was of no consequence. The day was already ruined. It had been ever since she had thrown up in the bathroom.

Greedily she snatched up bag after bag of sugar-coated fat already thinking about how delicious it would taste once she got home not caring if Will was there or not. She raced around to other aisles, grabbing a couple things off the end racks and for once felt not the slightest hint of embarrassment as she stood in the check-out line surrounding by magazines that offered weight-loss tips. She even chatted politely with the check-out lady brushing off the odd look she received from the women behind her with a cart filled with what Emma considered "normal person" food.

She never drove recklessly. Emma was the driver everyone got annoyed with, the one who aired on the side of caution to the point of traveling five below the speed limit and never attempted to cross an intersection if the light was yellow. Tonight she passed cars left and right focused only on the food sitting beside her, fumbling to get a bag open as she buzzed through a yellow light.

On her way up the stairs she succeeded in her battle of wills with a bag of snack-size Reeses stopping half-way to the top to frantically peel away the wrapper letting it fall to the ground while she pushed the chocolate-covered peanut butter into her mouth in one bite instead of carefully eating the edges and then the middle like she could remember doing if she tried hard enough. Emma stood outside the door downing another piece of candy before she put the key in the lock scared and relieved when Will greeted her before she had a chance to turn it. She had shoved the orange bag into the generic plastic one, one of three that she was balancing along with Will's cheeseburger not entirely certain she wanted him to see it anymore.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will took one glance at the woman before him, hair disheveled, eyes slightly frantic as she bounced into the apartment with a giddy expression excitedly asking him how he was doing and chucking his meal across the room for him to catch. He couldn't tell what was in the plastic bags but they were from Wal-Mart. When he noticed a couple ketchup stains on her shirt he realized the gravity of his mistake.

"Hey," he kept his voice cheery, "someone's in a good mood. What's in the bags?" _Innocent enough._

"Food!" Emma answered excitedly while Will stared open-mouthed at the woman who would normally never say that word in such a gleeful manner.

He recovered quickly, "Okay, well I'm going to go eat on the couch. It's up to you where you want to...eat." _Am I really saying this? _

Emma plopped on the floor pulling things out of the plastic bags that surrounded her at an at a frenzied pace while Will mindlessly backed up to the couch and sat down forgetting about the cheeseburger as he took stock of her purchases.

A Reeses bag that was already torn nearly in half, the orange squares spilling onto the floor next to numerous other packages. He knew she had an affinity for gummy candy but this was insane. Scattered around her were Lifesaver gummies in two different flavors, peach rings, green apple rings and orange slices. Thinking she was done he kicked himself again when the third bag he had forgotten about was produced. Reaching in she pulled out a package of iced oatmeal cookies. The only semi-healthy thing she had were some granola bars and those were dipped in chocolate. This was not a good situation. She was going to regret this. He was regretting it for her while he sat with his elbows on his knees trying to figure out what to do.

_Why the hell did I do this? Why did I tell her to go to McDonalds? Oh right, to test Sue's words, because like an idiot I didn't believe what she said about impulsive behaviors. Should I try and stop her? Not directly, that wouldn't be a good idea, maybe indirectly?_

"Do you want something more substantial before you dig in?" _Substantial? Dig in? Great word choice, wonderful._

"I'm good," Emma didn't seem to notice but when she turned to look at him that sickening, glossed over look was present in her eyes.

Will gave up leaning back and covering his face with his hands not sure if he should stick around or go somewhere else. It was painful, seeing her eat so much at once and the stake was only driven deeper because he was the direct cause. Everything that was happening now and everything that would take place later rested on his shoulders.

It hadn't been ten minutes and both packages of lifesavers as well as the Reeses were empty. She was starting on the peach rings, popping three and four into her mouth at once like one wasn't enough. Even in her current state she was methodical about the way she was eating, going through one item completely before moving on.

_I can't watch this._

He faltered his way through a lame excuse about eating in the kitchen so he could read the paper realizing about a second too late that he never read the paper. Once again Emma waved him off, oblivious to the inconsistency.

Not surprisingly he wasn't hungry anymore and the only reason he forced his way through his now cold cheeseburger was for her. He didn't want her to increase her panic which his not eating would undoubtedly do. Will could probably eat everything that she was but he would never be able to do it at the speed she was. When he had caught her that day in the kitchen with the cookies he had stumbled onto the aftermath of a binge. He had read about them in the books, not giving them much consideration because they didn't seem like an issue. The bits he had read slower had left him in a state of disbelief. He had even laughed at one point sure that the author was exaggerating, that no one could possibly eat such an outrageous amount of food in such a short span of time. The woman in the other room was proving him wrong.

With a concentrated effort he finished off the last bite of his meal making up his mind that he needed to try and stop her before she ate everything. He seriously doubted she actually would, especially the cookies but he wasn't willing to sit around and do nothing to find out. If he could get through to her before she blew through everything and more importantly get the packages away from her before she checked the calories there was a chance it would be a little easier to calm her down. Will wasn't looking forward to what was looming ahead of him and he wished the bathroom door had a lock. _Do I try to stop her if she tries to make herself sick? Would that make things worse? I don't know what to do? I never know what to do…okay I can do this, whatever this is._

Cautiously he approached Emma sitting down beside her careful to not touch any part of her body in case it would startle her. With a small prayer to no one he dove head first into the deep-end without a life-vest.

"I love those," Will pointed to the gummy green and white rings Emma was popping into her mouth, "May I have one?"

Emma glanced up at him, still not present, then back down at the bag uncertain if she wanted to give up her food or not. Reluctantly she tossed one to him. It landed on the floor but Will ate it anyways. Normally he really did enjoy them but right now it tasted like cardboard and seemed impossible to swallow.

"Here, let me clean up the trash. I'm going to take it out anyways. It's trash day tomorrow." Will lied.

Trash day was Friday but he was hoping she would miss this detail like she had the other one. Emma glanced up sharply firmly telling him no, that she was perfectly capable of cleaning up her own mess. Without thinking he brushed a few strands of hair that were close to ending up in her mouth as he stepped down, thankful that her only reaction was to open the package of cookies. She had stopped halfway through the granola bars which Will took as a positive sign. Maybe she was getting full.

Back on the couch his posture was relaxed but underneath his clothes his body was tense, ready to jump at a moment's notice. He never once took his eyes off of Emma. She was slowing down now only eating one cookie at a time and chewing at a pace that could almost be called normal. In his mind he ran through a multitude of scenarios as he waited for the apocalypse worthy melt-down.

He didn't need much patience. It couldn't have been two minutes before Emma's hand stilled half-way towards another cookie. Remaining where he was he watched that hand grab hold of one of the empty lifesavers bags and flip it over as her other hand came up to cover her mouth, a small squeak muffled by her fingers.

In her flurry to open the Reeses packaging she had ripped directly through the nutrition label. Moments prior to Emma bringing the two pieces together Will was at her side firmly grasping her wrist in his fist, backpedaling on his earlier decision to let her count the calories. Aside from the cookies, and that was only due to quantity, the number she was about to calculate would be high enough to induce immediate panic, something he was trying to keep at bay for as long as he could.

"You don't want to do this. It's only going to make you feel worse. Let me have it okay," Will vividly recalled uttering something close to that when he had tried to get her to relinquish her mother's oatmeal cookies.

She put up no resistance permitting him to gather up all of the evidence of her transgression. It was a small step in the right direction turned into ten steps in the wrong direction when she spoke.

"Why did you let me do this?" She was accusing him.

Will paused. That was something he had never expected her to say. The only other time she had blamed him for something had been the night he had ended up at a hotel and that had been due to a scuffle over something he hadn't been there for. He felt backed into a corner. Every answer that flickered through his mind seemed wrong. She wasn't supposed to put this on him she was supposed to carry it herself.

_Except for the fact that I caused it. _

He forced confidence into his voice, "I didn't want to make you think I was stopping you because I was worried you were going to get fat." His answer was true, it just lacked a few details.

Emma stood up, wiping her hands on her skirt unbuttoning her shirt as she strode towards the bathroom. Will didn't know what to make of her brazenness, whether it meant she was indifferent to whether or not he knew or that she was aware it was impossible that he wouldn't catch on. _A little of both, probably._

Against his better judgment that he questioned the validity of on a daily basis anyways Will followed. She was standing parallel to the mirror her skirt abandoned on the floor when he walked in, her eyes closed as her lips moved slowly like she was counting. When she did open them they locked with his momentarily before she rotated her head and recoiled from the woman she saw reflected back. She moved so that her back was facing him. Will studied her reflection in place of what he couldn't see. Emma was biting her lip, her breathing increasing as she stared directly at the toilet.

"You don't have to. It'll be okay, we can just go sit on the couch or lie in bed. We don't even have to talk." He was inching his way closer to her.

Very lightly he placed a hand on her shoulder closing the distance between them when she didn't flinch.

"Come on, " Will whispered softly into her ear, "You don't need to do this."

He pulled her listless body behind him sitting down on the couch with Emma resting between his legs, her back against his chest. Her gaze was locked on her stomach and she gently traced a random pattern gently poking whining softly. Will grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch. It was by no means cold in the apartment but it was better than her being able to see her stomach. Her hands were still under the blanket, still tracing so he lightly removed them placing them over her chest trapped gently under his arm.

Her breathing steadied and Will thought she was asleep until she jumped off of him covering the distance between the couch and the bathroom in long strides. Will cursed softly but didn't move. _I tried._

Will was lost in his own thoughts when he realized that he hadn't heard anything that indicated Emma was throwing up. He was up and off the couch instantly arriving at the entrance to the bathroom in mere seconds.

Again he was met with Emma's back. Her head was lowered like she was doing something but he couldn't tell what. For the second time he relied on her mirror image his breath catching in his throat. He wanted to yell at her, get her attention but that was the worst thing he could do.

Emma's hand was pressed against her leg inches below the vivid reminder of the night her mom died that had only recently begun to fade into a light pink. He couldn't see what she held in her hand but the thin trail of blood flowing down her leg reflected in the mirror made what she was using a mute point.

"Whoa, hey Emma, put that down okay, please." He was retracing the path he had crept along earlier.

"I have to pay somehow for what I did. It's been too long to get rid of it." Her voice was cold and harsh but it was the slight hint of a waver that he was now banking on.

Will was behind her now, well within range of grabbing her arm and he contemplated doing that until he noticed that she was still pressing down and the blood flow was increasing. _I'm right here. I'm right here and she's not stopping._

"Let's go talk." Emma raised her hand slightly obviously intent on bringing it back down.

Instantly he balled her hand in his taking the opportunity before it slipped away. Her skin was sticky with blood. She made a fist refusing to let go of whatever she was holding. Will forcefully maneuvered her out of the room. The scent of her blood that permeated the air was starting to become too much for his squeamish stomach. One thing was for certain, adrenaline rushes worked wonders for making a person feel less sick. He stopped when they got to the middle of the kitchen. Remaining behind her Will tightened his grip on her hand when she tried weakly to pull it free.

"Give it to me Emma." Gone were the soothing tones he had used earlier, now he was commanding her.

"Why can't you just let me do this? You already stopped me once." She was frustrated but close to her breaking point.

"I won't let you hurt yourself for something as trivial as food and don't tell me you deserve it. No one deserves this." His words halted hers.

Whether it was what he said or her acknowledging she had no way out Will wasn't sure but she slowly opened her hand allowing the object to fall into his. Not closing his hand in case he hit a sharp edge Will placed it on the table next to him, Emma's blood transferring onto the hard wood as he did.

He did a double-take when he retracted his hand wiping it on his pants. What he was staring at wasn't the sliver of blade she had used the other night, it was an actual razor, the kind he had seen his dad use in his workshop as a boy. Those were sharp. He had a small scar over a section of his right palm to prove that.

Quietly he asked her to sit steeling himself for what he might see when he looked down at her leg. It was bad, her skin was split open but not to the extent of the first one. Blood was oozing from the left corner, dripping to the floor. He glanced around, nothing was close so he pressed his palm down firmly against the wound the way his father had once done with him after he had cut his knee falling on some cement steps. Will almost gagged at the feeling of torn flesh beneath his hand shifting his focal point to the ceiling. Emma remained completely still underneath him from what he could, or more accurately, couldn't hear she wasn't crying. It took a few moments for it to dawn on him that he could have used his shirt. As gently as he could he lifted his hand off of her leg wincing for her when semi-dried blood made him move even slower. The bleeding had stopped. He didn't need his shirt anymore. That left the next issue of the evening.

"Where did you get that," Will gave no indication as to what he was referring to, she would know.

"I bought it one day." _I don't understand why she is so candidly honest about some things and weaves circles of lies about others._

"Why." It wasn't a question, more like a defeated surrender.

"I don't know."

"Yes you do." Will prompted.

"I wanted it." _I hate this game._

"Why?"

"Just in case…" Emma never finished. It was clear he was going to be the one guiding this conversation.

"Just in case what? Just in case you wanted to cut again?" He spoon fed words into her mouth not wanting to drag this out any longer than he had to.

_God that's a hard word to say, it shouldn't apply to her, just like purge._

"I guess."

"Have you thought about it before?" For a moment Will wondered if Emma had heard, his tone was so low.

"Occasionally but only if I'm mad at myself." _Now I'm getting somewhere._

Through a seemingly never-ending exchange of monosyllabic answers with the occasional sentence fragment thrown in Will had managed to piece together that she had thought about it three different times but hadn't done anything. He had re-asked her four times on that one, making her look him in the eye only accepting it as the truth when she had been able to hold his gaze.

"Do you think I'm disgusting now?"

"No, I would never think that." Will was busy applying a band-aid and hoped his voice hadn't sounded too distracted.

"Doesn't my stomach disgust you, after everything I ate?"

Finishing with the band-aid Will took a big gamble as he murmured no and leaned in to plant a soft kiss against the part of her body she hated so much. He felt her stiffen but she didn't push him away. Meeting her eyes again Will failed at stopping his mind from wandering down a road opposite the one she was taking. He told himself that she wasn't in danger of hurting herself until he looked at the band-aid on her leg. He maintained that drastic measures were not needed unless it got worse. _Stop denying it. She's becoming a danger to herself _

Will gave in but refused to back down completely. He knew what someone meeting that criterion inevitably led to. Putting on a smile he held out his hand to help Emma stand ducking his head so she wouldn't see the battle he was waging between semantics and truths; the expression it was producing.

"Come on, let's get you dressed." Whether her goose bumps were from her lack of clothing or his kiss he wasn't sure but he decided that the latter sounded better to him.

Will rummaged around for the baggiest items he could find handing over a t-shirt that was about two sized too big on him and a loose-fitting pair of her sweatpants. Emma sat on the edge of the bed, running her hand over her body before she slipped the shirt on neglecting the pants because she didn't want to risk getting blood on them. Taking his unspoken cue Will retrieved an old towel from the bathroom waiting until Emma laid down to figure out where to put it. She was on her side at the moment but if she turned on her stomach it would act as a barrier between her and the bed sheets.

Spooned behind her Will couldn't figure out what to do with his hands. He remained completely motionless when Emma's found one of his and placed it over her stomach confused and afraid to do anything. It was an odd feeling. Her skin was taught, expanded from her food intake and for a moment if he pushed everything else from his mind he could imagine lying together just like they were now, his hand covering her swollen belly for an entirely different reason.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts please...


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Serious angst here guys, strong SI warning and rough times for both of them.

**

* * *

****Ch. Twenty-Nine**

**Emma's POV**

She had been tossing and turning for over an hour now unable to fall back asleep. It was three in the morning and Emma probably would have stayed in bed persisting with her futile attempts if she hadn't rolled onto her stomach and felt a damp patch on the towel beneath her. Running her hand down her leg Emma found the band-aid that was soaked. The viscous substance was getting all over her palm but she found the sensation comforting instead of disgusting like she should have. _I want to see it._

Not bothering to take the towel with her Emma crawled out of bed and felt her way along the wall to the bathroom softly kicking the door closed behind her while she groped for a light switch. Standing in front of the mirror she could already see a few drops of blood threatening to inch down her thigh. She thought about grabbing some toilet paper to dab it away but she didn't want to. She wanted to watch it run down her leg; never would she have thought the sight of her own blood would leave her in an almost trance-like state of fascination.

Emma climbed into the tub sitting down with her back propped up against the side opposite the drain frowning when the droplets of blood she had been eyeing didn't move. Gently at first and then not so gently she poked at the cut, probing with her finger until part of it tore open leaving the beginnings of small trickle of red. She studied the patterns it made as it came into contact with the floor of the bathtub taking note that the tub must have been slanted slightly towards the drain as the lines began moving downward.

_Do you remember what you did last night? All of that shit you ate? All of the fat that is still buried in your stomach, collecting on your body, its okay if you don't. I'll gladly refresh your memory. The entire bag of Reese's was first, then the lifesavers, both bags, next up was the peach rings, then the green ones. Do you remember him asking you for one, the way you hesitated because he was a threat trying to take away your food, but you gave into him anyways, just like you always do. You even let him stop you from throwing up, the only redeeming action you had left. You tried to punish yourself anyways but he screwed that up too. He's always undermining you. How convenient that he isn't here right now…you could finish what you started. What you did wasn't bad enough, painful enough for all of that crap you consumed. You know where they are. They are less than two feet away, just go get them. You know you can't resist me. I've been nudging my way back into your mind for a while now. Surprise, I was never gone. Go on, no use putting off what you're going to do anyways._

The voice was right. The cut on her leg wasn't nearly as deep as it should be. It was laughable compared to the fading scar above it. There was so much imperfection in her life she didn't need a physical reminder of her inadequacy.

Emma remained in her detached state as she pulled opened the cupboard that at one time had contained her scale. One self-damaging instrument replaced with a far more dangerous one, an aspect that she was starting to find enticing. Hastily she pushed the trash can aside latching onto the small blue box hidden inside an empty tampon container that was underneath a partially full one. Will never checked the bottom one. He probably wouldn't check the other anymore either since she had gotten her period.

Back in the tub she resisted the urge to turn the water on. Everything was so much more satisfying when she was immersed in water. The blood flowed more and she loved watching the water turn red around her feet. One of many recent developments she didn't understand.

She had been hoarding razor blades for a while now and the one Will had seen last night was one of many so it hadn't bothered her in the least when he had taken it away. He must have gotten up at some point because it had still been on the table when he took her to bed. There was probably even a red stain where it had been laying.

With an accuracy that would do her OCD proud Emma lined the utensils along the rim of the bathtub. Most of them were ones she had popped out like the one she had used in the hotel room from packages she had secretly been buying. Usually that was the reason she didn't stay to watch Glee rehearsal and she had bought some more last night. The one Will had seemed the most concerned about had three counterparts. They worked the best, sharp enough she could barely feel them.

She studied them intensely picking up each one rotating it so that it glinted in the light taking satisfaction in the knowledge that soon that glint would be marred with a deep red that would crust over into brown.

Twenty minutes had gone by and she didn't want to run out of time. Last night was a haze, a fragmented frenzy of images and smells. This needed to be a controlled process just to prove that she was still capable of one. Emma slid a twin to the blade she had used last night over the edge of the tub letting it drop into her cupped hand wasting no time in heeding the voices' advice.

She forced herself to grin through the slight sting that always accompanied the first cut. Finally she was going to be able to abolish the mess she had created last night. The blade was effective and before long she had a gash on her leg just as wide as the first one she had created. It wasn't long enough though. Somewhat hastily she pressed the blade down deep this time groaning out loud and squeezing her eyes closed tight as an unexpected pulse of pain shot through the wound. She hadn't been feeling anything for a while and had assumed her brain had reached the point where it had classified the pain as an inevitability instead of a warning. Apparently her brain was a bit slow on the uptake. Taking a deep breath she repeated the motion this time no pain accompanied it and sliced outward toward the corner significantly lengthening the gash. Again she tore at one edge before moving to the other. During one swipe she accidently ran the blade under the skin that surrounded the cut pleased when it widened. She repeated that too. If she were capable of stepping out of herself she would have been shocked at the severity of what she was doing. Her fingernail was invisible when she pressed her finger inside. A moment of clarity reached her, stopping her from worsening the cut.

_That's impressive but probably still not good enough. I forgot to mention the cookies, the oatmeal ones that you ate half of and the granola bars; you ate most of those too. Remember how you and your mom used to buy those cookies when you wanted oatmeal cookies but she didn't want to bake or how she used to buy you one granola bar every day before day care? Those are nothing but memories. She's dead and you know why. I think that deserves another don't you? One of these days you should probably try to get over this but we both know that isn't possible. You've let yourself become so weak._

In her current state she was oblivious to her verbal negations.

_Get over it._

"I can't."

_You won't._

"I can't."

_Fine, screw yourself over._

"I will. I am."

_Enjoy your failure._

"I won't."

_Then get over it._

"I can't."

_You won't._

"You get over it."

_I have._

"I can't."

_You won't._

"Leave me alone."

_I won't._

"I killed her."

_Yes, you did._

"I know."

_Pay for it._

"For what?"

_Don't play dumb._

Tears didn't form like they usually did when she had these arguments but with every image of her mother dying she sliced into her skin roughly an inch below the cut she had just made. Even this was precise, a straight set of horizontal lines going down her thigh. She couldn't stop reliving that day, their last conversation, the look in her mom's eyes so she made this one worse than the last. She was careful to not go any deeper using her finger as a guide. The horror stories about people who cut too far were numerous and Emma really didn't want to fall into that statistic. Then again she hadn't thought she would become a poster child for eating disorders or self-injury.

When the onslaught remained relentless she made one more cut that like the one before was longer than the rest. It almost spanned entirely across her mid-thigh. The bloodied weapon lay on the tub next to her, smeared where her fingers had touched the cool surface as she had laid it down. She was sitting in what could almost be called a pool of red but there really wasn't any depth to it. It was trickling into the drain at the other end. Vaguely she wondered why she wasn't light-headed; maybe there wasn't as much blood loss as the mess around her indicated.

Her fascination continued. Slowly she ran her hand palm down over the wounds she had just inflicted captivated by the sight of the red that she could control the course of. Wherever she put her hand it would go. If she made a diagonal line across her stomach, the blood would do the same. Finally something she had power over. Dipping her index finger into the liquid Emma slowly wrote out the word "Control" across her calf.

Emma jumped up when she noticed that she only had an hour before Will's alarm went off and that was banking on the fact that he wouldn't wake up before it. If she was lucky he would hit snooze. If she was unlucky he would find her because the first thing he did in the mornings was use the bathroom and considering last night he wouldn't be too pleased if she refused to let him in. He would let himself in. She needed to get a lock for the bathroom door. He would never let her do that.

Leaving bloody footprints in her wake Emma grabbed a towel not caring that it was white and began to hold it over the cuts that were still oozing. Turning towards the tub she cursed. Water wasn't an option although it would be the simplest. Emma whirled around and grabbed another towel practically sprinting to the tub. It felt completely useless, trying to mop up all of the blood. So far all she was accomplishing was creating one giant smear. Minutes ticked by until she began to see the porcelain bottom. Quickly she looked over the rest of the tub and the walls satisfied when she didn't see any drops taking care to wipe up her footprints as well. Throwing Will's shirt back on she was faced with two more problems. She couldn't very well walk into the bedroom with a handful of blood-stained towels and his shirt wasn't long enough to cover the latest additions to her body.

Wiping as much of her body clean as she could Emma tip-toed into the hall and through the bedroom door racing Will's cell phone as she gently opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a black pair of sweat pants deciding that it was the safest color. When his cell started to ring she sprinted out of the room and down the hall skidding to a halt in front of a coat closet that neither of them used much. In a state of panic she flung the door open burying the towels under a mound of extra blankets that wouldn't fit in the linen closet. They had always annoyed her to no end but today she was glad for the presence.

A very small moist spot on the leg of her pants drew her attention down. She couldn't see the blood but it was definitely there. Throwing a glance over her shoulder she cursed herself for not remembering to grab band-aids. Will was already in the bathroom. A sudden surge of fear spiked through her as she prayed that she had gotten all traces of her actions.

The sound of running water calmed her immensely and she refocused her mind on locating a substitute for a band-aid. Her eyes landed on the roll of paper towels next to the microwave on the counter. There was tape in the small drawer next to the fridge. It would have to work. After a small war with the scotch tape that always crinkled before she could place it along the edges of the paper towel she finally succeeded, three wads of white that so far she couldn't see any blood on traced the pattern of the cuts.

Will was notorious for his five minute showers and she had barely pulled her sweatpants up before he rounded the corner. She didn't have a chance to see if the raised areas where her crude band-aids rested were visible. She hoped they weren't. It wasn't hard to make herself look guilty. He would assume it was about last night while she had an entirely different reason in mind.

Quietly she went about making a bowl of oatmeal positive that Will would let it slip given everything that had gone on. It wasn't until they were both seated at the table that he began to talk. Emma prepared herself for what wasn't going to be polite, idle conversation about mundane things like the weather.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess. Better." _For reasons other than the ones you are thinking I'm sure._

Will took a deep breath and looked her in the eye, "Emma that was serious last night. What you did is dangerous. What happens if you go to deep?"

"I didn't." _I won't._

"I won't make you promise. I know enough that I'm aware that is never a good way to handle things, but please come talk to me. I told you that at the motel, and I'm saying it again. Please, come get me. I don't care what I'm doing, interrupt me, drag me away and do anything it takes to get my attention. I hate to see you hurt yourself." He was quiet, patient yet pleading.

"Okay." _I wish I could say I was sorry._

Will's attempt to come off as nonchalant fell flat when he asked her if she wanted anything other than oatmeal and he had done an equally horrible job of hiding the look of disappointment on his face.

For a moment Emma got nervous when Will stopped and stared at her curiously like he was about to say something but thought better of it. Surely she wasn't that transparent. Their entire interaction had gone off without a hitch. He hadn't once acted like he wondered if something was going on. Emma brushed it aside with clothing options for school.

* * *

Her clothes were mocking her like they had done so long ago and she dug around for the articles she had purchased at the beginning of the eating disorder. She had two reasons this time: she really did feel fat and she didn't relish the idea of wearing a skirt with paper towels taped to her thigh.

The one and only darker pair of pants Emma owned were in the wash and if she went and got them that would definitely evoke suspicion on Will's part. Reluctantly she selected a pair of loose-fitting gray slacks telling herself that she would have to check often to make sure nothing was visible.

Another problem arose when she started to head towards the bathroom to get dressed. She hadn't done that since the beginning of their relationship. Emma bit her lip while she tried to figure out what to do. Normally they talked while dressing, facing each other but that wasn't going to happen today. Purposefully Emma kept her back to Will the entire time she got changed. For an instant she thought about turning around right after she pulled the pants up but if she did that she couldn't play her actions off as guilt over how her stomach looked which really wasn't far from the truth.

* * *

It was lunch time. Emma stared curiously at the clock wondering if someone was playing tricks on her. She hadn't had a single appointment all morning and anymore having time on her hands was not something she enjoyed. If she wasn't occupied her thoughts would run rampant resisting her every effort to reel them back in.

This morning had been no different and her mind had jumped back and forth between the binge last night and her actions earlier with the added commentary of the voice that was apparently hell bent on sticking around.

Not waiting for Will Emma rushed off to the break room nervously glancing at the door as she waited for the microwave to ding. A Ziploc bag with a half cup of oatmeal had accompanied her to school today. Will had packed a lunch for both of them but it had been half-hearted, like he knew she wouldn't touch it anyways. Emma wasn't entirely sure why she was clinging to the oatmeal, perhaps she was still searching for her control, trying to convince herself that she wasn't a "bad" anorexic as she had taken to referring to herself as lately.

Will strolled in with a smile on his face that to his credit only faltered slightly when he caught sight of the cooked oats in front of her. It had been a long time since they had been in this situation. In fact, the last time she had partaken in a bowl of oatmeal while Will had consumed a normal lunch he had still been clueless about her disorder. Just for today, she told herself, she wished he still was.

"Do you mind if we continue where we left off this morning? I think it's important we get all of this out in the open." He wasn't exactly asking permission.

Emma nodded pushing herself up from behind her desk, taking two steps towards the door intent on shutting it for some privacy when Will's intense scrutiny of her lower half stopped her dead in her tracks. Despite the amplitude of time she had juggled around aimlessly this morning she had forgotten to check the paper towels. Emma closed her eyes briefly opening them just as quickly when she realized the action might be taken as one of defeat. She had become privy to an important piece of information last night when Will had made her look him in the eye each time he asked how often she had thought of cutting. It had been one of things she had contemplated coming to the conclusion that his magical ability to tell when she was lying really wasn't magical. It was just the result of his uncanny ability to pick up on body language and her unfortunate tendency to look away when she wasn't telling the truth.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will slowly let his hands fall to his sides as he took in the sight before him. A patch of blood larger than the one he had found on the towel in bed this morning was visible on Emma's pants.

"You're bleeding." He worked to keep himself under control, small things weren't adding up.

"Oh, it must have seeped through the band-aid. I forgot to check…I'll go to the bathroom now and do that." Emma held his gaze and Will almost believed her, almost.

"It's not in the right spot." The red splotch was significantly lower than it should have been.

"My pants probably rode up or something when I sat down." This time Emma very briefly diverted her eyes to the left.

Just as quickly she refocused them on his but he could tell from her expression that she had realized her mistake.

Countless times he had knowingly let her lie right in front of him always telling himself he would address it later but never doing so. He wasn't going to let her get away with this one. The barest hint of frustration started to surface. He was sick of being lied to and he wasn't going to roll over anymore.

"Come with me." His frustration was winning, daring her not to listen.

Emma didn't move and her continued cold stare only increased his anger. Briefly he thought about walking away but that was too close to the definition of rolling over in his book.

_I don't want to deal with this shit._

Will started again his voice carefully controlled; dark, throaty, stern, his words pitched low, drawn out with sharply accented consonants.

"Come with me willingly or I will drag you through this building even if you kick and scream the entire way and trust me sweetheart, I don't give a damn if anyone sees." _No, no, no, no this is all wrong. Please, that wasn't what it sounded like. _

What was normally a term of endearment could have easily been replaced with a four letter word that he would never even dream of using with her but the emphasis he had placed there and the overall tone of his voice made him feel like that was exactly what he had done.

He watched as her expression hardened, her eyes growing colder than they had been, mocking and detached. A small amount of fear sidled up to the anger that sat next to his guilt. She looked heartless, broken like she didn't care about anything.

Emma's mouth broke into a small grin, one corner turning up. The laugh that followed was bitter with an undercurrent of amusement. It didn't last long and soon her face was neutral as she continued to regard him with defiant eyes.

Will had never heard a sound like that from her. The woman before him was not the woman he knew. This person looked like the physical manifestation of how crazy Emma thought she was. Her eyes that would usually be wild were harsh and calculating and the body language that would have normally been so rapid he couldn't identify anything was very much under her control. If she hadn't been standing right in front of him he wouldn't have recognized her voice.

"We both know you would never do that Will and you could have said bitch. I know you wanted to."

What he should have done was take a step back and access the situation that was already far past the point of being out of hand. He should have reassured her that he hadn't substituted 'sweetheart' for 'bitch.' He should have acted on his guilt or fear and buried the anger.

What he did was allow that animosity to trample the others until they paved the way for words blinded by the one emotion that remained.

"Oh, you're wrong about that. You see, I don't have anything to lose from this. You're the one who will be drawing all the attention. They know you're the one who is _sick _and feel free to insert whatever word your little heart desires. The meaning won't change much."

In two elongated steps Will was inches away from her gripping her wrist in his hand ignoring her yelp of surprise. He didn't give her time to react instantly taking off for the door pulling her behind him. She struggled trying to plant her feet into the ground eventually wrapping her fingers around his wrist to try and loosen his grip. Will didn't say anything, afraid to open his mouth as the brutal reality of the remark he could never retract nearly brought him to his knees.

He made a few week stabs at telling himself that everyone said things they didn't mean when they were angry. So far, even in heated moments he hadn't done anything horrible. He had always managed to stay on the right side of a very dangerous line, the line he had just inattentively passed over. The damage he had just inflicted on her was far worse than what she had done to herself.

The pressure that had long been hinting at becoming too much to handle had passed its threshold and neither of them had heeded the warnings signs. Will had watched them go by never once taking the time to read one under the guise that things would never reach such a critical point and she had done the same. Both of them were paying for their denial now.

Emma calmed as soon as they got out of her office following him obediently. Will was certain she would still be resisting if it weren't for the chance of someone seeing them. True to his word he really didn't care about that. He could care about that later when the repercussions of his actions sunk in. If the ones that had already set in ever gave these the chance.

Rounding a corner Will caught sight of Rachel meandering towards them with a hall pass held gently in one hand. Her brow furrowed and at first Will thought it was a reaction to his tight grip on the arm of the woman behind him until he followed the direction of her eyes. They were trained on Emma's pants. When the young brunette course corrected to him all he saw was questioning worry. He shook his head silently pleading with her to not say anything. Her nod was barely noticeable as she breezed past them.

Will came to a stop in front of the choir room door reluctantly relinquishing his hold on Emma's wrist so he could find the key. It didn't come as a surprise when she tried to move away but as he wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her against his body he prayed no one was watching. That definitely would not look good.

She walked through the door willingly and he followed. Neither of them moved for a few moments both staring, calculating the other's expression. Most of his anger was gone and the look of steel he had seen in her eyes had greatly lessened. They were calming down and Will was thankful because the situation that was undoubtedly about to unfold didn't need any more tension than it was already going to produce.

"Office." Will was starting to trust his internal censor again.

There was no way he was going to have all of this go down in the middle of the choir room regardless of the lock. It seemed too open a space for such a personal, private issue.

Will closed the door behind him falling against it with a heavy sigh prepping for upcoming events that promised to be anything but pleasant. Forcing his voice to remain calm he began another precarious balancing act intent on not falling in the wrong direction.

"Look, just let me see. I won't get mad. I wasn't really mad back there, just frustrated. We both were. I just want to see how bad it is okay?"

The red on her pant leg was beginning to scare him. It had grown in the short span of time it had taken for them to get over here. He wasn't sure he wanted to know how bad of a cut it took to accomplish that.

"It's not that bad really. You don't have to worry. It's fine." Emma was standing with her back against the wall opposite him speaking in hushed, clipped tones.

"Emma it's obviously not superficial either." Will made a general motion towards her with his hand.

"Just…take off your pants, please." That phrase was glaringly out of context and he mentally added it to the rest of the out of context things in his life.

Tentatively she raised her hands to the top button sighing as she undid it moving on to the zipper, the sound magnified a hundred times over in the silence. Will stayed where he was watching as she simply let go of the waistband, the pants large enough to fall to the floor without any assistance.

Within seconds he was upright no longer using the door for support as his eyes roved over her leg. He couldn't tell but there appeared to be three paper towels completely soaked in blood that had seeped out around the edges trickling down her leg more than likely due to their not so gentle trip through the halls.

His voice was lost in the blood that was flowing faster down the trails the other drops had forged.

Emma was holding her body completely still her hands splayed against the wall as she raised her face to the ceiling. Will regrouped his composure and crossed the room dropping to his knees in front of her, his face inches from something he never thought he would see.

He had been correct about the paper towels. They were held in place by scotch tape that was barely sticking to her skin. Swallowing hard he gently began to lift the first piece of tape panic and disbelief crashing into him so quickly he couldn't distinguish one from the other.

"Emma, that's not good." He whispered more to himself than her.

It was worse than not good. It was very bad, much worse than the others, deeper, wider, longer. He gently gripped her calf when he heard a muffled sob softly telling her that it was alright and not believing a word of it. This was far from alright.

Carefully he placed the fabric heavy with blood on the floor next to him for the moment ignoring the liquid that was slowly working its way downward. Convincing himself that the next one couldn't be any worse he removed another piece of tape, eating his words as soon as his eyes registered the severity of what he was looking at.

This shouldn't be possible. He didn't know someone could cut this deep into their skin and not nick a vein or an artery or do some sort of damage. The second gash was the slightly deeper and longer by almost an inch. He didn't bother to try and figure out how much wider it was.

He hesitated for quite a while before he peeled the final paper towel away his attempt to tell Emma that it was okay cut off half way through when his stomach rebelled and he threw up a little in his mouth. That particular reaction was something he had dealt with as a kid and quite frankly he was surprised it hadn't surfaced that night in the motel. He swallowed with a grimace as the substance burned its way back to where it had come from. He had found the source of most of the blood flow. Thinking with more rationality than he had last night Will took his sweater vest off casting it to the ground while he quickly unbuttoned his shirt whispering a heart-felt apology after Emma flinched when he pressed it against her skin watching the white fabric turn red.

He couldn't even begin to imagine how painful this must have been, if she had felt it at all. He looked up at the woman above him, her mouth pressed into a firm line while her eyes bored a hole into the wall across the room tears sliding silently down her cheeks. In the span of two days she had cut herself four times, three of those had been all at once. If she was capable of doing that then it was perfectly plausible that she could and probably would do much worse. He was in over his head. She needed more than he could provide. She needed medical attention. This was no longer an issue of just how much of a danger she was to herself. All the proof he required was right in front of his eyes. If he took her in they would hospitalize her. He was foggy on the details; their required seminars only covered the regulations regarding minors. Will wasn't dumb enough to think that this would take away the problem. Emma herself had mentioned how pointless hospital stays were but what he was worried about right now was getting her into an environment where she could least be monitored for a couple days because he didn't have the capability to do it himself, not with sectionals. They would have the supplies to make sure she didn't get an infection another thing he wasn't able to do. Neosporin and band-aids weren't going to be enough this time and Will highly doubted Emma would treat them herself when he was gone.

He studied her leg again, the wounds that would heal leaving permanent scars reflecting the emotional ones that wouldn't be visible. It hadn't happened yet but it was going to. The cuts on her thigh would become another obstacle he would have to tackle. Another insecurity, one more reason for Emma to view her body as flawed and it was going to be one-hundred percent valid to her. If he were in her position he would feel the same and his conviction would only strengthen if he had done it to himself. The blood could easily be cleaned up until there were no traces to show it had ever been there in the first place. The mess it would leave behind couldn't. In a way it almost seemed like a manageable scenario until he added the words he had spouted earlier into the mix.

Standing up he quietly asked her to get dressed as he did the same taking note of the calmness in her eyes that was minutes away from being replaced with accusations, tears and anger.

"Come on." He said gently.

Emma let him take hold of her arm this time and didn't bulk when he led them out of his office, across the choir room and into the hall. His intention had been to tell her in his office until he had thought the idea through a little more. She was not going to stay quiet and she would definitely not stand idly by. If he could at least get them out of the building he might be able to save a little of her dignity and spare her the humiliation that would set in later.

Students were beginning to filter into the hallway. Will kept her hand in his as he let his shoulder bag slide down his arm passing to the woman beside him. He watched sadly out of the corner of his eye while Emma put it on situating it in front of her leg holding it in place with one hand.

Teenagers surrounded them, talking on cell phones, laughing, gossiping and Will thought about the absurdity of their day carrying as usual while his was falling apart around him. He forced a smile when a couple of his Spanish students waved and nodded at Kurt when he called out something about a song from his locker the boy looking perplexed when he kept moving. He couldn't comprehend the scenes of normalcy playing out around them.

They were just high school students trudging along to their next class, some of them to his and he was just a teacher with the guidance counselor walking to his left. They didn't know that today he was a desperate, terrified man taking a mentally unstable woman to the hospital where she would be placed on a psychiatric ward for the third time in her life. They didn't know that the odd way she was carrying his shoulder bag was on purpose or that underneath his blue sweater vest was a shirt stained crimson with her blood. They didn't know anything. He felt like they knew everything.

_How many times have I strolled casually past these kids while some sort of crisis was unfolding in their life? How many are going through what she is? How many have eating disorders or struggle with self-injury? _

_I'm probably walking past someone right now._

Scanning the faces around him Will searched for one that indicated that something wasn't right but he came up empty. It was impossible that one of these students wasn't dealing with something as severe as what Emma was and he mentally told whoever that person might be to not give up. _Talk to someone, a friend, a family member, a teacher. We'll help you. _

When they turned left into the hall that only lead to the entrance of the school Emma jerked away from him able to free her hand with little effort. He hadn't really been holding it to make sure she stayed by him it was more for comfort, mutual comfort.

Students were still mingling about, the ones who always arrived to class five minutes late no matter how many tardy slips they were handed. He didn't want to do this here.

"Why are we heading outside?" She sounded scared, her voice higher than usual.

"It's easier to talk outside." _That was a good answer. We are going to talk outside._

"You have class." Her voice faltered, caught somewhere between fear and confusion.

"We'll talk outside okay?" Will tried to dodge the trap he knew had already ensnared him.

They were mere feet away from the double doors. All he had to do was keep all of this contained for a few more steps. The relief he felt when he was finally close enough to start pushing the door open was indescribable.

"William, where are you going? You have class and Ms. Pillsbury should be in her office. There is a student waiting. I'm happy you two finally got together but that is no excuse to leave school grounds for a quickie."

Will's eyes widened at the sound of Principal Figgins' voice. Cursing under his breath he slowly turned to face the administrator unsure if he should try to look guilty or panicked, the latter being how he really felt.

"No, um…that's not…she's not feeling good. I think she caught what I had and…well…" Figgins' jumped in, the pregnant pauses in his excuse leaving too much room for interpretation.

"This is not acceptable behavior for teachers at McKinnely high. William do you still drink coffee, is this reckless act just a result of an overdose of some kind? Whatever it is you both need to return to your jobs. Ms. Pillsbury does not appear to be ill to me. I never would have thought that you two would succumb to such primal sexual urges."

He was still trying to figure out a way to run with Figgins' coffee overdose remark when another voice cut through the air.

"Please, don't refer to them and sex in the same sentence you know my unfortunate tendency to picture what people say and the things you just planted in my unwilling brain are enough to put a porno to shame. I'm inundated with absolutely revolting imagery right now speaking of revolting, Corn Syrup Curls over there is telling the truth. In another, now pale by comparison, misfortune I stumbled upon Ginger praying rather obnoxiously to the Porcelain God. Please just let them leave. I can't look at them without picturing the singing and dancing Neanderthal naked. Just get them out of here before I go blind. Subjecting anyone to this kind of torture is inhumane even by my standards."

Will held his breath while Figgins considered Sue's words. Given everything he had to admit some of what she was saying was more on par with humorous instead of mortifying. If he hadn't have developed the relationship he currently had with her he would be livid. She was still poking fun at him though, subtly. The look in her eyes when she had mentioned seeing him without clothes had aired on the side of teasing. Nowhere near traumatized like was leading the gullible man to believe.

Figgins apologized stammering that he hoped they wouldn't consider anything he had implied inappropriate clearly concerned that he or Emma might make a big deal out of being falsely accused.

It didn't occur to Will until they were halfway to the car how odd it was that Sue had known to cover for them.

* * *

**Sue's POV**

For appearance's sake Sue made a very big deal out of not being able to see forcing Figgins to hold her hand and lead her back to her office ordering him to close the door on his way out so she could get used to existing in darkness if her eyes didn't recover allowing her mind to analyze the events that had brought on her intervention starting with the most recent and working backwards.

* * *

She had discreetly followed Will and Emma as they headed towards the main doors shooting withering glares at students who were throwing questioning glances in the couples' direction. The only reason she had been tailing them was to make sure they got out of the building without any problems.

When Figgins appeared she had announced her presence without a second thought lobbing insults and complaints like hand grenades. She had caught Will's slightly confused expression and had purposefully singled him out making sure to convey that she wasn't being serious. His attention had been on Emma but it was a given that he was going to corner her at some point to ask how she had known to throw the man off their trail.

The walls in this school, with the exception of the choir room at her adamant request, were paper thin and she had heard their entire exchange.

She had actually been on her way to talk to the younger woman to see how she was doing having decided that she no longer had any need to maintain her usual demeanor around the counselor. When she had caught sight of Will standing across the room from Emma, both of them wearing angry expressions she had ducked behind a large poster that someone had plastered on one of the glass walls. Sue still wasn't exactly sure why she hadn't just walked away but she always had been far too curious for her own good.

If she hadn't had visual proof that it was indeed Will and Emma in the room behind her she wouldn't have believed it. Had someone handed her an audio recording and asked her to identify the voices they were the last two people she would have thought of.

The Emma Sue was familiar with would never be so defiant and fiery towards Will. She would never scoff at him or taunt him by calling him out on his intentions. The Will Sue was familiar with would never have called Emma sick in a way that implied he meant it in more than the usual sense. He would have never let her believe that he had indirectly called her a derogatory term and he definitely wouldn't have encouraged her to think otherwise but all of those things had taken place. They were human and angry and when combined those two ingredients equaled speaking one's mind without the mind's permission.

They had simply done what every couple does from time to time with one major deviation; the issues they were arguing over weren't small and insignificant and the emotions that fueled their words weren't stemming from an unpaid bill or a power struggle over a remote.

Sue had pressed her luck waiting until they started to leave the office before she made herself scarce. She had seen it on his face that he was reliving what he had said, trying convince himself that it wasn't that bad. Also obvious was that none of it was having even a mediocre success rate and that he was all too aware of the bridge he had just burned.

Emma's current mental state would ensure that the fall-out from this particular incident would be far reaching. Deep down Sue was positive Emma didn't believe that Will hadn't meant what he had said but that part of her was buried under a mountain of disordered chaos.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Emma was matching his pace, as close as she could be yet sending easily interpreted signals that she was avoiding him. Without warning she whirled around.

"We're outside. Talk." She was obviously still mad.

If he didn't do this now he was going to lose his nerve and he couldn't afford to let that happen. There were a couple people milling about but he wasn't positioned in such a way to be able to tell if he knew them. Whether they wanted it or not there were about to have choice seats for their own personal soap opera.

"Emma, those cuts on your leg are bad, severe and I don't have the stuff to make sure they don't get infected." Apparently he was taking the round-about way of broaching this.

"So we're going to the pharmacy then?"

He couldn't tell if she was truthfully asking or not. She had to know what was going on. Maybe she was grasping at straws in the hopes she would find the one that would change his mind or maybe she was just really good at playing the denial card.

"No, we're not going to the pharmacy. I…"Will took a step towards her to place his hand over hers knowing it was a useless gesture as he prepared to impart the phrase that she would easily interpret courtesy of four years of psychology classes.

"You're a danger to yourself and I think it would be best if-" He hadn't really been expecting to complete that statement without her breaking him off.

"It's just a few cuts. That hardly qualifies me as being a danger to myself. It's not like I'm suicidal." She wasn't really believing her words but the last one made his blood run cold, metaphorically Emma would say.

"That's not the point. The point is that you need help or at the very least to be somewhere where you can be monitored."

That was the downward plunge into the very public scene he had hoped to avoid. The accusations and anger surfaced, the calm had receded long ago.

"Oh, is that it? You don't trust me! What, are you afraid that I'll tear myself to shreds while you're gone?" _Stay tuned for next week's episode._

He had intended on taking the higher road, to be the calm in the middle of the storm but the residual anger from earlier was back-forming.

"Of course I don't trust you! How can I? You did this while I was home. I _watched _you! I was right behind you Emma, right behind you and you didn't stop and you wouldn't have if I hadn't had the chance to do it for you. So tell me, enlighten me. How the hell am I supposed to believe you won't do anything while I'm gone? You've cut four times in two days! God only knows what I would come home to! What if you go too deep? What then? _I never meant to yell at her, not again._

"Contrary to what you may think Will, I'm not that careless." Her voice had lowered somewhat.

"Really? That's funny because from where I'm standing it seems like you don't care about much of anything, especially yourself."

A short outburst of sound issued from her mouth. "Go to hell."

Choosing not to respond to that Will tried to bring the conversation back to where it was supposed to be.

"I'm only doing this because I'm worried. We need to get you help. I don't know how to handle this sweetie." The calm he had been desperately searching for finally came out from its hiding place.

"You called me a bitch! That's a great way of showing concern."

He had no recourse. In the literal sense he hadn't said that but he had given her the red-light to think that had been his intention. Glancing down briefly Will noticed there was more blood visible than there had been before.

"Get in the car…please." He was tired of this game.

"I'm going to be admitted but that's what you want isn't it? Third times the charm right?" She laughed cruely.

"I don't want it. It's just the only option I have left." He admitted softly.

"You could take me with you, to sectionals." _Definitely not._

"Stop it Emma! Give it up. You're not going to change my mind. Get in the car. Don't make me turn this into a larger spectacle than it already is." That one got to her and she relented.

* * *

Neither of them spoke on the way to the hospital and Will found out that the waiting room process was non-existent when you walked in with someone covered in blood.

He accompanied her into the Emergency Room surprised the doctors had let him. Her hand was clutching his. She was terrified and it was increasing with every winding, brightly lit hallway they traversed.

Dutifully he answered their questions that he hadn't expected to be directed at him retelling the events of the past couple days.

He whispered that she would be fine when they deposited a hospital grown in her hands glancing away while she changed her face impassive, completely removed from everything that was happening. She listened when they told her to lie down on the hospital bed placed at the center of the room and Will stepped out of the way into a corner as he watched them gently lift a section of the gown revealing the reason they were there. They measured them, recording the results and Will wanted to smack the orderly who commented that he had never seen self-injury so severe. That was uncalled for especially when Emma was in the same room.

A doctor quietly asked if there were any more and he told him no but they checked her over anyways asking her to stand, carefully removing her gown to reveal the front of her body. She held her arms out underside bared and rolled them over without being prompted like she knew the routine and Will supposed she did. The gown was placed over her front and she was turned around so that she was facing him, her head lowered, hair blocking her face. He couldn't figure out why they would check her backside. Maybe some people really were that desperate.

Anti-septic was literally poured onto her leg. They told her it would burn but she didn't flinch, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. They were ushered to a waiting room after that. Her entire upper leg now wrapped in gauze.

He followed again as they worked their way down another maze of hallways, a set of double doors reading Adult Psychiatric Ward looming at the end of one particularly long stretch. A nurse who had been nothing but gentle swiped a security card with one practiced motion beckoning them inside.

Will silently took in his surroundings. A very short narrow passage gave way to a large expanse of open space the entire floor covered with short purple-grey carpet. As he continued forward a sort of lounge that must have also functioned as a place to eat evidenced by the small round tables that each contained four chairs was visible to his right. The lounge chairs were an emerald green, made to look normal but they only seemed out of place the same way the furniture in the ICU had. There was a coffee maker positioned on a pale blue counter along the back wall with drawers that ran all the way down every one harboring a very noticeable heavy-duty lock. They kept moving in a straight line bypassing wooden doors wide enough for a hospital bed to fit through with grey, metal handles that could be opened by pulling up. Coming to a stop it didn't escape his attention that she was going to be placed in the room nearest the nurses' station despite her adamant declarations that she was not suicidal. There was already a small table and one lone uncomfortable looking purple chair positioned just outside the door. Emma glanced over at him both of them acutely aware of what the set up meant.

Nervously he stood just inside the door to a room that might be found in a hotel. It was spacious with one bed off centered, closer to the door rather than further back. The carpet was the same shade as the rest of the place. Next to the bed was a plain plastic nightstand done up to appear as though it were wood. A matching desk was positioned at the far side of the room. To his immediate right was a cabinet that ran from floor to ceiling, two small drawers spanning the width at the bottom with two vertical doors that would swing outward. All of them had locks. A little ways away from that was a small shower stall with a single white, almost transparent curtain that didn't quite reach the ground. He could see that the room extended off to one side leaving a space for a small off-white, shallow sink with a mirror above small enough and positioned in such a way that a person's head and shoulders would be the only things visible. Maybe that was a good thing for Emma. One window with a ledge wide enough to be sat on was directly across from him affording a fantastic view of a brick wall.

The nurse very gently said she would step out for a while to give them some privacy. Will thanked her out loud then mentally when she pulled the door closed the accompanying click louder than he would have expected. Maybe that was on purpose too.

In two seconds Emma was clinging to him, her arms wrapped around his waist holding him close asking him to not leave her here, begging him to take her home, promising over and over that she wouldn't do anything if he would just give her a chance.

She was starting to cry and Will worked hard to hold himself together attempting to bring her body closer to his as he placed one hand on the back of her head lifting his chin to rest atop her hair. Slowly he swayed back and forth not really sure why but finding the motion comforting nonetheless. He didn't want to walk away from her. He wanted to take her by the hand and march out those double doors. He didn't want to this.

Stepping away from her embrace he looked into her wide, scared eyes. His heart breaking more than it already was. He moved forward placing a couple kisses on her cheek his mouth stopping the tears before they could reach their destination. Placing his cheek against hers he continued to rock her gently.

"You'll be okay sweetie." He whispered softly into her ear closing his eyes when her body shook with a sob cutting off her attempt to ask him again not leave her.

He wanted to apologize but he wasn't sure if that was wise or not. Somehow it seemed like saying those words would only make things worse, harder. That didn't stop him from uttering the phrase repeatedly in his mind.

"You'll be okay." That was the only thing he could think of to say and it felt hollow.

"Please don't do this. I don't want to stay here. Just take me home, please Will." Her voice was muffled against his sweater vest for some reason reminding him of the blood that was just beneath it.

"I have to go now, okay. I'll call you when I can." There were set hours for phone calls, he had seen the sign but hadn't had time to read it.

So far he had been successful at holding back his tears remaining strong for her. She didn't need to see him break down.

"Am I still going to be your good luck charm for sectionals, even if I'm here?" Fear was really present, uncertainty, she was honestly asking.

Will placed his hands on her shoulders gently pushing her back a step so he could look her in the eye.

"Of course you will be. Nothing could change that. You'll always be the good luck charm and we need that luck so send it our way." He attempted to lighten the heavy air with a small smile.

"I have to go." The tears had started to form after het last question.

"I love you, remember that. You'll be fine sweetie. I love you." He repeated spending a fair amount of time on each word.

He didn't look back at her after he opened the door and stepped out. An out of place comment from a dog trainer about not turning around to take a peek at your dog after leaving it in a stay and walking out of sight surfacing. The woman had said it might make the dog hopeful that you would call it to you and it might break the stay from anticipation of the command. He didn't want Emma to follow him. He wouldn't be able to handle that.

With long strides he began his path to the doors that once closed would cement the fact that he was leaving his Emma on a psychiatric unit. He felt like he was abandoning her, second-guessing his decision with every step.

A hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder and he turned to face the nurse who had been so kind to them earlier her nametag informing him that her name was Karen.

"I know this is hard but you're doing the right thing." Simple words, layered meaning, profound impact.

"Thank you." Will forced out around the lump in his throat.

Just before he reached the doors a patient stepped out of their room. It was a woman who appeared to be about Emma's age with long brown hair her face twisted into a sympathetic expression as she told him that Karen was right. Will thanked her too hoping that she and Emma might become friends. She needed someone to talk to in this place. They probably both did. He would.

"Sir," Karen stopped halfway through swiping her card to lead him out, "Would you mind bringing some clothes for her. No one wants to stay in one of those god-awful gowns. Just make sure there are no drawstrings. If you bring shoes either remove the shoe laces or we will do it for you, it's not big deal. Pants preferably and I wouldn't recommend anything tight it might irritate her leg. T-shirts are good as well as sweatshirts but again take the drawstrings out if they have any. Word of advice, bring something of yours. It will be a comfort to her and I can assure she probably won't take it off. If she has any sort of item she might find reassuring, a stuffed animal or a blanket bring that along to. Underwear and socks of course, deodorant, tooth brush, hair brush because trust me the ones we provide are crap. Hair ties aren't allowed and we will provide toothpaste and shampoo and conditioner. If you bring anything for her to write in bring either loose-leafed paper or a notebook that doesn't have a spiral. You're doing the right thing. If you have any questions don't hesitate to call. Someone will tell you the hours you can talk with her." She sounded so compassionate.

Will nodded working to commit all of the regulations to memory and omit the reasons they existed in the first place. Walking through the doors and not turning around to search for Emma was the hardest thing he had ever done in his entire life.

Alone in the car in the middle of an almost empty parking lot Will let himself fall apart. The tears he had been hastily wiping away as he had mindlessly navigated the winding route out of the hospital poured down his face, catching on his jaw before continuing their descent, splashing against his jeans. He slouched in the driver's seat shifting so his back was against the door drawing his knees to his chest like he had in the motel searching for some form of comfort. His shallow breaths became large gulps with each exhale came a rough, desolate sound issuing from deep within him that contained all of the emotions he had kept bottled up for her sake. The urge to yell was present just like it always was but this time he didn't bother to push it down. It tore from his throat reverberating in the confines of the car not really lessening the intense things he was feeling. Impulsively he jammed his elbow backwards with as much force as he could the sudden pain when it found the car door doing a better job of calming him down. He did it again then pounded his fist against the steering wheel producing a small honk as he did so. Things were never supposed to have escalated to this point. He was supposed to have been enough to pull her away from all of this not scream at her with senseless biting words, not walk away back out into an unknowing world while she remained locked on a ward for the mentally ill. The result of his inability to fix her, the brutal reality that he didn't know how to help her anymore, that he could no longer protect her from the threat she had become to herself.

With a sharp movement Will forced the key into the ignition turning it harder than he needed to as the car started. Driving away from the hospital was almost as difficult as leaving Emma had been, almost.

If he hurried he could still get back to the school in time for Glee rehearsal and he needed the distraction as much as they needed the practice. By the time he pulled into another parking lot littered with cars he had managed to get himself in check. The kids deserved a teacher who would devote his full attention to preparing them for competition not someone who was barely able to go five minutes without proving what an emotional wreck they were. His personal life, as rocky as it may be, was not their concern and he wouldn't make it such.

They were already roughly a minute into the first song when he walked into the room the smile on his face genuine when everyone, including Finn, stopped in the middle of whatever choreography they were doing to enthusiastically greet him bombarding him with questions about a few dance steps. He reviewed the areas they were worried about using the physical activity to repel some of the stress that was heavy on his mind.

Counting the band off he restarted the song paying close attention to the spots he had just devoted more effort to. Things were progressing nicely everything was going the way it should be a welcomed respite from the disaster that had been his day. A few seconds before the last note of the final song Mercedes broke out of formation and he thought about reprimanding her until he noticed the excited grin on her face. Practice was almost over he decided to let it slide wondering what had the girl so elated.

"Where's Ms. P? She's always here for rehearsals when a competition is coming up besides I saw the cutest pair of Mary Jane's that she would go crazy over! " Will tried to appear as jubilant as she was but her question had come just a second too late and everyone had heard and was now waiting for an answer. _Great timing Mercedes._

Addressing the entire group he hoped he would sound believable.

"She's at home sick guys. I think she caught what I had. She wanted to be here. She really did but I played the bad guy, made her stay home." The slight chuckle he ended with had sounded real to him.

_I played the really bad guy and hospitalized her._

An outpouring of well-wishes and murmurs for him to tell her that they hoped she felt better met his ears. Looking around everyone was exchanging concerned glances with one another except for Rachel who staring directly at him clearly not buying one word of what he had just said.

_Okay we need a distraction._

"Hey Mercedes," the sheepish expression was not fake, "where did you see those shoes? You never said."

Another chorus rang out this one full of "aww that's so adorable Mr. Schue's" and one loud "man you are so totally whipped," that had obviously come from Puck.

Mercedes scribbled down the name of the store on a slip of paper and handed it to him on her way out, the other members hurrying out excitedly talking about how great sectionals was going to be with the occasional downer comment about the groups they were competing with.

Will busied himself with his back to the door uncharacteristically taking the time to organize the sheet music into neat little piles before putting it in his bag that he had placed strategically so no one would spot the blood that covered one side the entire time well aware that Rachel was standing in front of the door.

"She's not home sick is she Mr. Schue?" There was no way he was talking his way out of this one, she knew too much.

He couldn't face her.

"No…she's not." What he had meant to be a strong answer sounded weak.

There was a prolonged pause. The girl would never pry but he felt he owed her an explanation.

"I took her to the hospital."

"The blood." It wasn't a question, whatever it was it was laced with fear.

"Yeah." _I'm not going into details on that._

"She won't be back by Monday will she?" _Perceptive._

"I don't think so Rach."

He didn't know when she would be back, even if she was out by Monday she wouldn't be at school. That would be too much too soon. Her confession about the real world slamming into her as soon as she had left the controlled environment of a psych ward had never left him.

"Tell her that we miss her okay? That we care about her. Tell her I'm sorry." He could picture Rachel studying the ground.

"She's knows Rach. She knows and she doesn't blame you." _She would never do that._

"Okay well make sure you tell her that she's still our good luck charm, "Rachel paused her voice softening like she was contemplating something, "I could see her worrying about something like that."

Will paused, hearing her say that after Emma had expressed that exact sentiment was uncanny and devastatingly painful.

"Yeah…I'll do that."

Rachel moved around for a while but he didn't turn to see what she was doing. He had become nothing but an almost constant outpouring of uncontainable emotions and he didn't want the girl to see that. She didn't say a thing as she walked out, the door clicking softly in comparison with the one at the hospital. _Maybe she already knows._

Picking up his bag Will noticed a piece of notebook paper in front of the door perfectly centered obviously the work of Rachel not a carelessly dropped piece of homework. Bending over he read the short note she had left laughing through his tears when he heard her voice in his head.

_I don't give these away to anyone I'll have you know. I want her to have them but don't give them to her all at once. Be creative, they will mean more that way." –Rachel_

Underneath the paper was an unopened package of small gold stars, the same kind that still graced the sheet music that was tucked away in his shoulder bag. He grabbed both the paper and the small offering flipping the switch on his way out this time he did look back. There was nothing he was afraid of seeing in the darkness.

The radio remained silent while he drove home trying to figure out what to pack. Karen had told him that there were no set hours for bringing personal items and that if it was early enough he could see Emma. That didn't seem like the best idea for either of them so he had asked when they called for lights out. He had absolutely nothing to do until ten tonight except sit with his own thoughts.

* * *

On his way back to the hospital he found an odd sense of peace in the black night that surrounded him. He had called ahead informing a nurse at the front desk that he was going to be there shortly his voice faltering when he had said it was for Emma Pillsbury.

The ward was dark except for the faint glow of a small light over a work station. Will politely smiled at the woman he had spoken to moments before quietly thanking her judging by her expression that she wasn't used to hearing those words from someone in his position.

Stepping through the doors shouldn't have been as hard as it was the first time but it was. He still didn't look back. He still cried. He still felt helpless and he still wanted nothing more than to run back in there and gather Emma up into his arms and never let her go but he couldn't so he walked away, again.

* * *

AN: and the consensus is...hopefully not a bad one...


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Hey all, sorry this took so long. Profs are kickin' the homework load into high gear. It's officially much harder to write when they are not in the same location. I changed character names like crazy on this thing so if a name that doesn't belong crops up let me know and I will fix it. I hope I caught them all.

**Chapter Thirty **

* * *

**Will's POV**

It was the sound of his own voice saying he was sorry that rendered the alarm that blared five minutes later useless.

It was those two words that robbed him of that blissful, fleeting second when his mind was supposed to be impervious to the new days' yesterday.

It was the image of Emma standing before him in a hospital gown with pleading eyes just before he turned his back that made him squeeze his eyes closed.

It was the memory of the jarring click behind him as he stepped off the ward that made him cry anyways.

**Emma's POV **

It was the sliver of light as a nurse came in for a routine vitals check that didn't give her the chance to forget where she was.

It was the feel of the hospital gown against her skin that forced the new day's yesterday into her mind.

It was the sight of her clothes in two white hospital bags across the room that made her squeeze her eyes closed.

It was the smell of Will's sweatshirt that made her cry anyways.

* * *

Emma exited her room dressed in baggy pajama bottoms and Will's treasured McKinnely high sweatshirt to the sound of her shadow for the day introducing itself as Melissa. The shadow had a nickname; Lissa.

Nodding with indifferent acknowledgement Emma shuffled into the dining area her shadow in tow the air informing her breakfast had arrived. She weaved mindlessly in and out of the tables scanning the vertical strips of paper that listed the items the lidded dishes on the bland, grey trays to their left contained watching for her name. Last; first, first; second, middle initial; third.

_Pillsbury, Emma, M._

Despite knowing exactly what she was going to find it was unsettling seeing her name with _Adult Psychiatric Unit _typed above it in bold, black, uppercase lettering. She never thought she would see that exact set of words. She had forcefully told herself she wouldn't them, that she wouldn't ever be hospitalized as an adult. The jumble of letters was only another reminder that she was just as messed up in her thirties as she had been in her teens with one tiny altercation; this time she was worse.

Through narrowed eyes she scrutinized the greasy blob that was unsuccessfully trying to pass itself off as scrambled eggs alongside a biscuit that even though clearly from a can put canned biscuits to shame which sat gently against a fruit cup filled with liquid applesauce and not to her surprise a medium-sized bowl of oatmeal in the unmistakable, rounded, insulated trademark hospital dishware. It was the standard, "First day here so congrats you get the generic crap," meal.

All of the cookware was a deep yet dull pink either the color for the ward or the entire floor. Emma didn't touch any of it. Right now she didn't care about the consequences. Her refusal gave her a sense of control in the most controlled environment she could possibly be in.

During her preceding hospital stays she had always gotten somewhere in the ninety's percentage-wise for food eaten and she had thought the system mysterious yet ridiculous then. Today she received a zero with a chastising stare. The procedure was no longer a mystery and logically she knew why it was in place. It wasn't ridiculous anymore either. It was frustrating.

Emma smiled weakly at the middle-aged woman also dressed in everyday clothes occupying the spot to the right of her chair as she made her way back to the table huffing under her breath at the prospect of the upcoming small talk that never consisted of the weather but always addressed the reason one was admitted. It was considered a form of taboo to not answer and it was in her best favor to do so unless she wanted to be the subject of endless, gruesomely over-exaggerated gossip. Not that it would be difficult to give up the information, she had no fear of being judged. It was a trading game she had become privy to within ten minutes of her first time. Your reason for theirs; unprompted, unwritten yet always given because asking and not telling in return was worse than not telling altogether.

The woman nodded a silent greeting and Emma did her best to match the gesture. She didn't want to socialize. She didn't want to be here. At least when she was younger she had been naïve, unaware of all of the inner-workings but now she knew them from both angles and she wanted nothing to do with any of it. Being obstinate was not in her nature yet it was taking the liberty of displaying itself like she had been born with it today and Emma was perfectly content to step back and let it grow.

"He seems like a great guy."

Her voice was warm, inviting and most importantly extraordinarily calm, a dead give-away that she had been here a few days. After a while almost everyone sounded like that, a pleasant side-effect to existing in a world where their day was mapped out to the letter. Emma's grip on her cold exterior lessened when she realized that the woman had chosen to neglect the unofficially official rulebook on interrogating incomers.

"The man," she prompted, "the one who brought you in. He really cares about you. He was crying when he left."

_Is that why he didn't turn around because he didn't want me to see him cry?_

"He is a wonderful guy," Emma replied honestly. "I'm Emma."

"Denielle, but you can call me Deni."

Deni was everything Emma wasn't. She had waist-length brown hair that was streaked with purple highlights carelessly tossed into a messy bun with violet strands left loose to frame the sides of her face. Her make-up was eye-catching, dramatic. Shades of grey mixed with a violet that accented her hair gave her eyes a smoky, dark appearance while liberal amounts of eyeliner intensified their every movement the bold statement offset by her almost ashen skin. Matching the signs of aging on her faded, black, long-sleeved shirt were the lines on her face. Emma knew she couldn't be much older than she was but her life added ten decades without its owners permission

In the outside world Deni was someone who would have given Emma wide-berth and vice versa but in this world time seemed to rewind. Relationships and friendships forged out of proximity like those of her grade school years were the norm. Psych wards had given Emma good experience with personality types she normally would not have dealt with and she always came away surprised. No matter how unlikely a comradely was or how tentative she was about it there wasn't once that she hadn't learned something valuable. Her hospital stays were one of the reasons she worked harder to understand the people the masses wrote off. Underneath everything they did that turned others away there was a person who often had some profound advice and observations from the viewpoint of someone who had led a much different life than her own. There was always something she could learn and her own life experience had taught her anyone could play the role of mentor.

"Will, that's his name. He's a Spanish teacher." Emma picked up the conversation she had been holding on pause for a minute too long.

Deni's eyes grew round and a guffaw of laughter spilled from her mouth. "Oh…I was horrible at Spanish. In my defense though, and really I don't deserve one I was shit with that language, our teacher would start crying and run out of the room. I always thought she was pathetic but that was before my life forgot to give me directions, before my brain decided it was going to check out in the chemistry department, before I joined the armada of mentally ill." She gestured grandly with her hands to everything and nothing.

The questions shifted as Emma figured they might but she didn't mind, the ice having already been broken when Deni had mentioned Will. They were both in for self-injury with different additions. Deni wasn't anorexic and Emma hadn't ever done drugs. The eating disorder really hadn't played a role in her ending up here but it was going to have a secondary one and the other woman had picked up on it when she hadn't eaten. By way of explanation, excluding the control part Emma told her that she was only present for the benefit of the attendance sheet winning her bet with no one that her shadow a table away would choose that moment to start taking notes.

They weren't allowed to go anywhere for thirty minutes after breakfast and Emma felt bad for the middle-aged blonde across the room that was shooting frantic glances in the direction of the bathrooms. It had been instantly obvious to anyone who shared their mind with an eating disorder that she regretted eating in general but more than that she was in the middle of a screaming match with herself over a raspberry bear claw. Emma had sent her a silent shout-out that the feeling would pass knowing full-well that if their roles were reversed the sentiment would have been meaningless to her regardless of who it came from.

"Okay guys you're on your own for an hour and then be back out here to be divided into groups for sessions please. As always, it's not mandatory but it's highly encouraged that you attend as well as participate." The speaker over-enunciated her words as if she were addressing two year olds and Emma whispered a good-bye not offering an excuse because in places like these there never really was need for one.

Emma stood heading back to her room listening backwards for the footfalls of her shadow counting by way of the soft thuds that it took twenty-seven steps either matched, under, or above the amount she had used. She really didn't care. It was just something to do, something to occupy her thoughts so they wouldn't occupy her.

Glowering at the painting that hung on the wall opposite the small twin bed she now was curled up on Emma debated taking it down. She wouldn't be able to of course, they were bolted in place but it was sickening that it depicted a tranquil, meandering stream gurgling through a wooded area with a fawn cautiously taking a sip of the crystal clear water to top it all off. _Whoever thinks that is comforting has definitely never been a patient. _

She dropped her gaze to the hospital bags she had stopped searching through after she had found what she was currently wearing trudging her way over to see what else Will threw in. Emma hadn't decided what her feelings were in regards to him at the moment. If she were honest with herself the anger she held was probably misdirected. It wasn't his fault she was here even if a part of her kept insisting otherwise. Just like always she was her own demise.

White fur with patches of black was barely visible over the rim of one of the bags and Emma picked up her pace to reach Jake. Will didn't know it but the dog had been with her both times she had been hospitalized as a teen and it been a sort of lifeline. Lying in a strange bed without Will last night her body more exhausted from exertion of emotion rather than mobility had been lonely and she had wanted something to wrap her arms around.

Reaching into the bag Emma pulled the stuffed dog out and hugged him close inhaling his scent delighted to find some of Will's lingered with that of the animal. She cradled the toy in her arms until she was again on the bed folded around it with her eyes closed trying to pretend she was at home. Her attempt failed miserably and she gave up finding her gaze returned with two black beady eyes and a gold star centered on an equally dark, squishy nose. Emma ran her finger across it melting at the thought of Will taking the time to do something like that. The object she had once referred to in a discussion as a five-pointed form of bribery successfully bribed some of her misdirected anger to redirect itself to a dead end.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will had always told Emma that if she wasn't around to make him he would return to his bachelor ways and he had always been serious. Out of a long list of domestic chores Will found pointless making the bed had reigned supreme since childhood. His mother could attest to that.

Emma, on the other hand, refused to start her day without her ritual of stripping the bed clean and then carefully putting every piece of bedding back in place straightening then meticulously combing them six times with a flattened hand to chase away any stubborn wrinkles. He usually stepped out during that part. Watching her under the control of another disorder on top of the one she was already powerless against was difficult for him. He had it timed so that he would catch the tail-end and help her put the quilt on.

This morning he took the same amount of time and care she did, straightening just as much if not more. The chore he had actually pictured himself not starting if she weren't around was finished before he left the bedroom.

His second priority of most mornings retained its slot. Leaning against the counter as he waited for his coffee to brew Will stared dejectedly at a recently purchased, unopened box of lemon that would normally be in an over-sized emerald green mug rotating in the microwave just behind him letting his mind wander where it wished.

A few days after Emma had confessed to overdosing as a teenager and the resulting hospital trips she brought it up again divulging details he would have never asked for. The nurses had grown exceptionally fond of her. She never caused any problems, followed all of the regulations and often went out of her way to help with small things like cleaning up in the evenings. He hoped she was cooperating this time. It would be so out of character for her not to that he had basically convinced himself that she would. The only damper being the side of her he had witnessed yesterday that had been the exact opposite of everything he had ever known. The unit wasn't set up for eating disorder treatment but they did dabble in it due to the high occurrence in patients admitted for other things. He had regretted asking what the most common "other thing" was when they told him it was self-injury.

At the start of their relationship he had been caught up in a veritable whirlwind of emotions centered on the fact that they were actually going to be together. She hadn't been herself but he had brushed it aside not wanting to admit that something might be lurking around the corner to sabotage them again. He was an expert at tricking himself into believing things would find some magical to work out, that her disorder would somehow vanish simply because he was there to help her along. The more he had found out about eating disorders the only thing that had began vanishing was that idea but he had still held onto it, desperately. Yesterday was a nightmare. It was worse than the night he had found out Terri was faking her pregnancy. It was worse than any day that had merited the title of Worst Day Ever by such a great length he didn't have a descriptive header.

Will spent the rest of the morning on autopilot so consumed in thoughts of Emma that the upcoming trip to Sectionals didn't have the exhilarating air it usually did. He had no reason to go into school today until noon but he wanted to talk with Sue before he left. She deserved more than a simple thank you. The woman he had despised and considered ruthless had given way to a compassionate and understanding individual willing to help him in ways he would have never imagined.

Pulling into the parking lot he snatched up the couple items he had purchased on the way to the school the barest hint of a smile crossing his face when he thought about how Sue might react.

* * *

Knocking on her door he found she must have been expecting him when she used his name as she informed him to come in. Sue was seated at her desk with a black journal and if he didn't know better he would have thought her expression was slightly pained when she looked up to greet him.

He smirked as he placed a yardstick on her desk next to a stuffed German Shepherd positioned so it was in a sit.

"It was the best I could find," he motioned to the marked piece of wood, "for a cane and say hello to your guide dog, Geordi. It's the least I can do for causing your spontaneous loss of vision."

To his surprise Sue's only response was to laugh as she gently picked up the dog. He was certain she wouldn't figure out the name and he wasn't going to tell her his reasoning behind it. He would never live it down.

"Geordi…well William, I'm not amused by your attempt to come to my rescue with a blind service dog." Sue smirked at him.

They were beginning to have far too many things in common and he never would have pegged her as a Trekkie. He had grown up watching the original series run in syndication after school and had stayed loyal to the franchise through the fifth installment of Enterprise which he had dutifully watched but had to admit it was the weakest of them all. The entire idea had seemed like a time-bomb but Captain Archer had a Beagle which got him some brownie points. When he had found out Scott Bakula was going to play the role his hopes had been raised a bit. He had loved Quantum Leap but even that hadn't been enough to save the series either for him or the rest of the world.

"Hey, I tried and he's a guide dog. Service dogs don't lead the blind." Will didn't give his words a second thought as he continued, "They do a multitude of other things. They have hearing alert service dogs for the deaf, mobility service dogs, seizure alert dogs, which a dog actually can't be trained to do it has to come naturally. There are even Allergy-alert dogs. I've always thought it would be hilarious to take a dog trained to alert to peanuts and smear peanut butter on its food. It would lay there all day and never touch it." He laughed at his own joke stopping abruptly when he noticed Sue's curious expression. _Great._

"Singing, dancing, star trek and dogs. Where the hell did you come from and what did you do with Will Schuester? I bet you watch that beauty pageant where they parade pampered pooches in circles."

"It's not a beauty pageant. Every dog has its own breed standard-"Sue ordered him to shut up.

"Why don't you have a dog?"

Will sighed, "I'm not sure Emma's up for that although she did take me to a dog show a while back and did a pretty good job at not freaking out."

"You know I bet you anything she did that on purpose to see if she could handle a dog. No better way to see if you could stand bringing a four-legged two-year old into your house then to immerse yourself in them."

He hadn't ever considered that. Maybe that had been her logic. She had known for a long time about his passion for dogs but he had never talked about getting one. He intended to he just hadn't ever felt it was the right time. For a while Will imagined running around in the backyard, playing fetch with a canine counterpart, training…competing.

"You should get a dog. I've heard there an excellent stepping stone." Sue diverted her attention to placing the journal carefully in a drawer.

"Stepping stone for what?"

"Will, I know you want more than a dog. Everyone knows that and I can assure you she's knows it." _Oh._

It was true. He wanted kids, more than one but he would settle for a single child. The thoughts he had been so careful to keep a lid on since they had bubbled closer to the surface the other night in bed trickled back. Entering the relationship he had known she would have hang-ups about children. They were messy, loud, and would be more than a major disruption in her ability to keep her surroundings spotless.

The eating disorder, in true form, only made everything worse. At a school career fair she had forced him to attend they had overheard a woman complaining about how she had gained twenty-three pounds while pregnant with her son and six months later was still trying to lose it. Instantly Will had pretended to busy himself with some pamphlets studying Emma's every move out of the corner of his eye, not hard because she hadn't moved and her face was twisted in fear. That had been a devastating moment for him on so many levels. Her OCD and Mysophobia could probably be worked around. There was a very good chance that the prospect of gaining so much weight even if she had recovered might forever remain a roadblock. He couldn't win.

On purpose he had looked up the relapse rate among woman who had recovered both during and after pregnancy. What he had found was like everything else touched by the disease; hopeful, worrisome and potentially fatal. Some mothers were perfectly fine and stayed recovered. Others relapsed during the pregnancy occasionally at the expense of the child and more than a few relapsed after giving birth disgusted by the baby weight and the fear they would never get rid of it. It often started out normally with diet and exercise the way any woman would handle tackle the situation but it would quickly spiral when they became disappointed at the slow results. They would run back to the disorder, the thing that would ensure they lost the weight rapidly. Most intended to quit when they reached their "normal" weight but that never happened. He wanted a child but he wasn't going to put Emma's or the potential baby's health at risk in order to have one. Emma was adept at the art of quickly spiraling and even if she lost the weight naturally the time it took would be fraught with paranoia and strict supervision on his part.

Sue had been scrutinizing him the entire time his mind had taken leave with a small frown on her face. Will spoke hurriedly to fill the awkward pause left by its departure.

"That's going to be…difficult I know. The disorder…relapse…"The concepts that had been sailing so effortlessly a few seconds ago were stubbornly refusing to be voiced, "I haven't brought that up either. I don't want to scare her, to make her think that if she doesn't get pregnant I will leave. Someday I'll sit down and talk with her but it will take a lot of reassuring to convince her that I will not walk out if she says no. That's how much I care for her Sue. I love this woman so much that I would stay by her side even if she didn't want children despite how much I feel. We would get a dog though. We would definitely get a dog whether she agreed or not we would have a dog." His attempt to lighten the mood wasn't working on so he darkened it some more.

"We were watching a movie once where a man who was schizophrenic almost drowned his child on a state of paranoia and she told me that was why she was afraid to have children. She thinks she's too crazy, that she would endanger them without even knowing it just like he did. I still can't decide if that was a positive comment or a negative one. On one hand it could mean she wants kids and on the other it could be the reason she might have already decided against them." Will was more than ready to end this conversation.

The older woman regarded him silently for a moment before agreeing that the eating disorder would without a doubt complicate things exponentially softly mentioning that it was probably one of the worst case scenarios for a pregnant woman imparting that most mothers-to-be accepted the inevitability of weight gain and worked through it emphasizing just how hard that would be if there was a history of an eating disorder. Almost tentatively she told him that parents who had or did have eating disorders could sometimes restrict their child without realizing it. That piece of information did nothing for Will and it made Emma's fear of harming a child sound all too plausible.

"It's been proven to be more prevalent in daughters of mothers with eating disorders as well, especially anorexia but that haven't exactly pin-pointed why. Right now they think it might be genetic but they of course are very hesitant about that and don't have enough evidence to support the claim."

_Why is she telling me all of this?_

"I'm only giving you the facts Will. I think you should mention it at some point even if she's not entirely recovered. It was a major factor in a friend of mine beating anorexia; she wanted to give her husband a child. They have three now, two girls and a little boy and she has never relapsed. I realize that's the veritable modernized fairy tale amongst the original versions but it's worth considering. You don't have to sacrifice your desire to have a family because there is the potential it could make things worse, not if the same potential exists in the other direction. You have the right to tell her you want a child although being the staunch traditionalist that I am, "Sue smirked, "I believe there is usually a wedding first."

Will ducked his head, "yeah, I haven't brought that up either. I will. I'm actually planning on discussing it with her. I don't want to be that guy who goes all out only to have his girlfriend say no but when she does say yes however I propose is going to be something she will never forget." He grinned.

Sue rolled her eyes but he could tell she thought his romanticism was sweet. _That is one word I never would have placed anywhere near her._

"I have no doubt it will be. So, bring up all three preferably not at once. Subservient quadraped, inevitably curly-haired creature, insanely ritualized public declaration that one is signing their life away and oh look you are ready for that picket fence and 1.5 children. Now please be gone before I decide to charge you for my advice. I have a Cheerios routine in the works and if I remember correctly you have some dismal competition in the middle of nowhere you will be heading out for today. Not that I'm keeping tabs, or wishing you luck let alone first place so your gaggle of misfits can move on to the next showcasing of various ways to obliterate time and decimate eternity." _You could have just said good luck._

"Should I visit her before I leave? Would that be a good idea?" He watched as Sue's face fell knowing her answer before she gave it.

"Probably not. I know you don't want to hear that but trust me the first day is a bit surreal and having someone from the _outside _come in only makes it harder to fall into the routine, to accept where you are I guess you could say. She might be disappointed but she'll understand eventually."

"She was admitted twice as a teenager." He intoned quietly.

"Then she will definitely understand. Take a look William," Sue held up a list.

Right at the top before the words "To Do List" was "Visit Ginger," in capital letters. When he noticed that everything after that was Cheerio's related he felt nothing but gratitude. She was putting Emma before the squad.

"What do you think she's doing right now?" Will cocked his head as Sue checked the time.

"Its noon, she's probably sitting in front of deplorable hospital food that looks nothing like what it's supposed to be on generic yet color-coded trays." She said quietly.

They talked a while longer about whether or not the "deplorable hospital food" would help or hinder the eating disorder not really reaching a consensus although Will got the impression Sue already had one and just wasn't saying anything.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The lunch that was busy not digesting her stomach had proven just as pointless as the group therapy session. She and five others had been crammed into a small room forced to line the walls, the group leader garnering the only chair in the room. Emma didn't mind sitting on the floor. It had allowed her to feel safe affording her the opportunity to wrap her arms around her knees after having managed to get a corner spot. For a while she imagined that she could just disappear. She hadn't and she had mumbled her name to ensure she was marked as present. The only other word she had uttered was a firm "pass" when her turn to speak rolled around. Her shadow had not accompanied but the group leader whose name Emma hadn't bothered to catch took notes in her absence.

Emma stared at the blank table eyeing a crumb listlessly. Will would be rounding up the kids right now, a ball of nervous energy counting and recounting bodies and outfits. An experience of his own in high school where he had performed at a very important competition in blue jeans and a t-shirt while all the other guys sported black slacks with red vests and bow ties had left its mark and he was understandably obsessed with making sure all show choir attire was present and accounted for. Emma had watched him check that more often than the kids pointing out to no avail that an outfit without a body to fill it would be worse than a body without an outfit. He was able to laugh about the incident now but it had hung over him for a long time through his high school days. He said it had been the worst feeling in the world, dancing and singing through the knowledge that every last person in the auditorium had their eyes trained on him either in sympathy or amusement.

She wouldn't be getting a phone call now until he got to the motel. If he wasn't singing Will had a horrible habit of talking on his cell while he drove but he didn't want to set a bad example for the kids. Aiding in his temporary refrain was the small matter of endangering them or incriminating himself.

Yesterday he hadn't even hinted at the competition. Normally it would have been the only thing she had heard about and by the time they were ready to leave she would be just as informed as he was about the opposing groups, what their weak and strong points were, why some judges would be biased against New Directions and why others would give them a fair shot. She had selfishly taken that excitement and killed it a near impossible feat where Will and show choir were concerned. She was a pro at replacing impossible with possible especially when it involved hurting others with her actions, bringing them along for the ride as she tumbled headfirst into failure.

"You're lucky," Deni straddled a chair next to her letting her legs kick back and forth aimlessly, "to have someone like him. I don't have anyone like that to care about me. I did once but he ran off when he realized just how _crazy_ his girlfriend was. Your guy, Will, he's loyal. He'll come and take you home and you'll get better, go back to your job, me" she snorted, "I have a nice cozy bed waiting at a halfway house. I was on the streets before I came here you know. I've been pounding that pavement for a long time and in that time I've learned that actually being homeless isn't the worst part. They all look at me like I'm something worse than a failure. They let my clothes and hair weave my story." Emma's frowned as Deni rolled her eyes," I had dreams as a little girl. My childhood wasn't some sop story riddled with abuse and a broken family. I had loving parents who pulled out all the stops when it came to me but I refused to listen to their wishes for college and ran off with a guy I met in high school. Knowing how much I have disappointed them and the people who pass judgment on me before they actually pass me, that's the worst part. Never saw my life this way but hey what can you do right? I'll end up back where I was, back here, back to nowhere. I'm the definition of Revolving Door Syndrome, been here seven times. It's better than the streets, "Deni grinned and poked Emma gently in the shoulder with her index finger. "So, what's your story friend?"

Emma had been so wrapped up in sympathy for the other woman that she almost didn't register the question. Here was phase two of the trading game. Although she wasn't inclined in the least to talk with any of the staff she did want to confide in someone and Deni's nonchalant nature put her at ease, made her feel comfortable.

"I'm a guidance counselor at a high school." Emma shook her head with a bitter chuckle. "A guidance counselor with OCD, Mysophobia and an eating disorder, oh, and now self-injury can be tacked on I guess. If you're the definition of Revolving Door Syndrome I'm the definition of irony. I wouldn't take any advice from me, don't know why the students do. They probably are just using me as an excuse to get out of a class." Emma broke off making sure Deni actually wanted to hear her story before she continued.

"Will and I knew each other for a long time before we were able to get together. When he started teaching he was married to his high school sweetheart. Her faking that pregnancy while devastating to him was the best thing she could have done for us. The eating disorder started around the same time we started dating. I was able to hide it for a while." Emma sighed, "He's been nothing but supportive and I've given him more than one reason to pick up and walk out. He went with me to my home state of Virginia when my mom was hospitalized, refused to let me drive. He stayed in the room with me while I watched them take her off life-support. He didn't even know her. They had spoken maybe ten minutes at the most. He stayed because of me. All of that plus an eating disorder from the get go and he didn't leave. I guess I shouldn't be angry with him for bringing me here…"

"You're what? Uh-huh you cannot be angry with that man!" Deni's spot on imitation of Mercedes only tripled Emma's guilt.

"He's got your back. He's looking out for you and most importantly he loves you. I'm sorry but you got yourself here. We all have no one to blame but ourselves. Circumstances might have made it worse but the reason all of us are sitting here instead out in the real world, that's all us."

A few others had murmured their agreement making Emma want to slide under the table. She knew Will wasn't to blame for why she was here but she wasn't too pleased with the rest of the ward thinking she thought he was. She fumbled her way out of her comment appeasing to everyone silently to believe her when she said she knew she was wrong to feel how she did. The sheer mortification of the entire situation caused the rest of her anger to short-circuit and she vowed to apologize to Will when he called.

Phone calls were always awkward for her. Emma had often wondered what it would be like to speak to someone without the embarrassment of being on a psych ward at the forefront of her mind. Her parents and a couple friends had been the only people who contacted her when she had been in high school and that had been bad enough. They would grope around for words talking about insignificant things like they were merely telling her about their day. It was awkward to hear about her dad spilling coffee while she stood next to a pay phone wannabe in a room she landed herself in. She had never asked what it was like to call and she doubted she would quiz Will. It was going to be worse with him. A physical blow painfully pounding into her head the reality of everything she had put him through.

Eager to shift the focus away from her past Emma pressed her hands against luck and started to push.

"What was your dream Deni?"

Her counseling training was beginning to surface causing her to slip in the woman's first name to create the air of a personable, relaxed talk.

Deni eyed her suspiciously, a silent show of surprise, intrigue, uncertainty and trust.

"I haven't told anyone that in years. When all you get in response to spilling your soul is an acting job not even worthy of a C-movie that almost makes the person's disbelief more obvious than if they had screamed it out loud you stop confiding. Sometimes they don't try to hide it, sometimes they just laugh but call me crazy" Deni dropped her mouth open in mock alarm pretending to be shocked at her surroundings, "but I trust you. I-geez this is pathetic. It's not even something respectably within my league like an abuse substance counselor or something…I wanted to be a high school band director. I played the flute." Emma watched as her eyes grew more distance with each word that brought her past closer.

"My dad made me practice for an hour every day after school and not having any other bandies to base that off of I thought it was normal so when I started seventh grade I realized five minutes must have been the norm. I thought I hated playing until I got to eighth grade. A friend of mine played clarinet but picked up tenor sax for jazz band and convinced me to do the same. She was alright instrumentally but she knocked me out of the park vocally. That year I realized how much I loved playing music and I admired my band director in high school more than anything." Deni let out a weighted sigh but kept talking.

"I had a scholarship to Ohio state but I ran off with that guy. I'm not going to waste my breath on him. He was a dead end and I was too smitten, stupid and naïve to realize it until he had left me in slum city three months behind on Rent. I didn't have any money. I called my parents from a payphone, told them I was doing great and made the alley I called a bed that night sound like a four star hotel. I haven't talked to them since. I'd like to go back to school but that…that really is crazy."

Emma didn't get the chance to tell her it wasn't crazy and as she watched her retreating form stepping around the corner for the psychiatrist appointment the nurse had just interrupted them for her decision on mentioning it waivered. _Would I want someone telling me that it wasn't too late to follow my dream if I were her? Would I believe myself if I were her? Would I even listen? _

The vapor wake from her earlier redirected anger latched onto a different breeze and rerouted itself into a tentative plan.

"Name and date of birth."

A voice dry with boredom cut through Emma's mental crossroads. A young woman with her hair neatly pinned up was standing over her with a small plastic cup and a glass of water. Emma could see the pills.

"Oh, I'm not on any medications." _Someone needs to take better records._

"You're psychiatrist wants us to start these today." The woman waited patiently for Emma to hold out her hand dumping them into her palm all at once and handing her the glass of water.

"What are they? Not their names, what are they classified as?" Emma demanded to the sound of a shrill beep indicating the scanner had registered the code on her armband.

Confusion crossed the nurses' features. It was probably very rare for a patient to ask what their medications did. Most people accepted them without any questioning. Emma had when she was younger but now she wanted to know, now she would understand what sort of chemical imbalance they were compensating for, another thing to make her feel inadequate.

"Um…I think this is for anxiety and this is a mood stabilizer…I think, wait maybe it's this one" she pointed to a small rounded blue pill,"…well either way two of them are for those and the other two are just folic acid because you are a reproductive aged female." She sounded uneasy.

"Thanks," Emma over emphasized the ending consonant relenting and taking the meds so the woman would leave.

She was officially medicated again. A selective serotonin-reuptake inhibitor just like she had overdosed on as a teenager. A small chuckle escaped her lips at the absurdity of being placed on a med to leave serotonin in her brain longer for a disorder that low serotonin was thought to be the cause of. Those probably matched up for a reason. She hadn't thought her moods were all over the place but she had been taught that it would probably be those around her, namely Will, who would be the first and possibly only to notice. That she was going to ask him about perhaps without telling him why she was curious. She didn't want Will to know she was going to be on meds to maybe stave off some of her crazy. So many times she had told students to not be embarrassed about taking medications and here she was determined to not let Will find out.

Being taken off medication hadn't made sense to her but over time it had become a source of pride. At least she didn't have to thank doses of chemical altering drugs for allowing her to function among others even if it was at a lowered capacity. That luxury had just been washed away with one swallow of water.

_Reproductive aged female._

A crude way of saying she could have children, something she hadn't had the guts to approach Will about. Honestly she wasn't sure where she stood on the issue. She would watch kids and their parents in the park and wonder about what it would be like to be a mother but the thought of spit up, dirty diapers and far-flung food always deterred her. Now she had a bigger problem; the weight gain. Twenty-five pounds was the average and that was twenty-five too many for her standards. Too many for the eating disorder's standards that eclipsed hers so well she wasn't sure she still had them.

Glancing around her Emma noticed that everyone had retreated to their room. It mustn't have been due to an announcement because no one had come and asked her to go to hers and her shadow was still a table away. Her musings had allowed her to reach a conclusion that she could have came to without such intense considerations.

She wanted to give Will a child, children maybe. She wanted to give Will children, maybe and keeping her trapped within that maybe was the weight that she didn't want to gain, definitely.

The other things could be worked around and hopefully through with time but twenty-five pounds was still twenty-five reasons to not get pregnant. Of course all of her convictions were prey to his reaction if the topic were ever brought up. One look at him trying to mask his disappointment would have her hacking away at number twenty-five in an attempt to get through to number twenty-four. The problem was whether or not her desire to share with him something he deserved so much would be enough to counteract what that something would give her body in return.

Emma wanted to prove that she could be a good mother, that she could redo all of the things she didn't like about the way her mother had raised her no matter what her intentions had been. She wanted to give someone the childhood she hadn't been able to properly experience and she wanted it to bring someone into this world that had a part of Will. Terri had nearly broken him with her lies. It was obvious to everyone that he desperately wanted a family. Little kids flocked to him wherever he went drawn in by the boyish charm that brought an adult down to their level. It was that charm that had gotten to Emma as well.

Pushing the issue aside as she did the same with her chair Emma copied everyone else with the exception of a door. She was forced to leave hers open a crack while all of the others were closed. They got privacy and she didn't.

Perched on the ledge beside the window Emma reluctantly admitted that she had better eat something at dinner tonight or at least get a snack at snack time. Adults having three set times for snacks should be embarrassing and it would be if they weren't all here where no one could see. The other patients acted like children, counting down the minutes until the cart would roll in, fighting over who would get what.

If she didn't consume something they would be all over her. She had seen it happen with a girl her second time. They had started her on Ensure Plus shakes and threatened a feeding tube if she didn't start to eat. Emma was certain the words wouldn't be more than a scare tactic in her case. They wouldn't waste a feeding tube on someone who wasn't really in need of one but the attention that would be brought on by a public confrontation at meal time was something she wanted to avoid. Lazily counting a row of bricks she decided she would eat some item that didn't look too questionable if that was possible.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Doing the required second head count when already ten miles out of Lima was probably not what the person who had devised the regulation had in mind. In his defense he had indirectly done one when he had the kids line up after they had converged outside the choir room their garment bags in hand. They automatically formed a line five minutes before departure time knowing from experience that it was a necessary evil to being able to get in the van. Only a handful of people knew about what he had done in high school and he had never told them what had caused his borderline obsession but someone had. There was always a too well-informed crack at his expense. Today it had been Puck saying that his black sweatpants would look just like black dress slacks from where the judges sat. Will was hedging a bet that Emma was the culprit.

Everyone was present save Artie and Tina who were riding separately with the boy's parents. They had been more than ready to transport their son but Will had still felt terrible about not being able to get a bus. Artie, being the kind of person he was had downplayed the disappointment he had to have been experiencing. When Tina had volunteered to ride with him it had come as a relief to both.

Josh was fitting in seamlessly and according to Rachel who was next to him in the passenger seat due to lack of space he was handling the choreography better than Finn. Things were still awkward on that front and they avoided situations where they might end up alone where a heavy silence would only beg to be broken. He had let the teen get away with not turning a paper in because of the entire thing not relishing the prospect of a one-on-one confrontation. He had almost docked him an entire whole letter grade until it dawned on him that if he did that Finn would receive a D on a paper he didn't even write. Under normal circumstances that would be not normal. Will had given him a C minus.

"Mr. Schue did you give her a gold star?"

Rachel was over-accentuating her words keeping her voice soft despite the fact that there was no chance they would be overheard with all the commotion just behind them. When Kurt had started talking about hopeful shopping venues he had stopped trying to piece together the fragmented bits that floated to the drivers' seat.

Keeping his eyes trained on the road his mind supplying the action had been his Driving Rule Number Two, Will answered.

"I did but not directly. Don't tell her I told you but I put one on the nose of a stuffed dog she slept with through college." _Maybe I shouldn't have said the through college part._

"I knew you could be creative with proper incentive," the young girl beamed at him, "and don't worry I won't say anything. Actually it makes me feel better because I still sleep with a bear my dads' got me." She had dropped her voice to an almost whisper again.

"Did you visit her before you left?" Her inquiry leaned a little more towards serious than the normal small talk criteria called for.

"No…someone told me that might make things harder, to visit on the first full day. I wanted to, kind of. It would have been really tense I think. I'm pretty sure she's not to happy with me right now." He was throwing more details at her than he had intended to.

"Even if she is she'll get over it. You were only trying to help and sooner or later she will have to realize that you aren't the reason she is there. Not that I'm saying Ms. P. is crazy or anything." Rachel concluded in a whir.

"I know Rach and you're right but I do feel guilty. I don't even know if I'm going to call tonight…" _Great, spill your soul to your student._

"You have to call Mr. Schue. Why wouldn't you call?" Will envied her world where so many things that were grey for him now were still black and white for her.

"It's not that simple. I don't have any idea what to say. I mean, it's not like I can call and tell her how riveting the cornfields were. Besides, anything I say even if she would normally find it interesting is just going to seem off. I'll be sitting there talking about my day and she'll be…there." He couldn't say psychiatric ward around Rachel.

"It is that simple Mr. Schue you're just being an adult and complicating it so it's not. She'll be glad to hear from you and if I were her I would probably be hanging on your every word even though I would never admit it." Rachel finished as though she were in the situation.

Will half-agreed and half-disagreed with her both of them falling into an easy silence disrupted by the occasional outburst and comment of a questionable nature from the back of the van. It was just like the school bus. The loudest, most likely to get into trouble kids always sat in back. Puck, Santana and Josh were along the final seat. Josh was a pretty good kid so he probably wouldn't cause any problems. Puck was the last person Will envisioned Josh becoming friends with but in the confines of the choir room they were almost always talking and on a couple different occasions Will had seen Puck defend the smaller boy in the hallway.

Their quiet came into the halt with all the finesse of a nuclear bomb when he pulled into a McDonald's parking lot. In seconds the compartment was filled with everyone shouting out what they wanted. Will diffused the situation and saved himself mass confusion by deciding they should go inside. They had the time and he was tired of driving. The van was a 2001 Ford but it didn't have cruise control. It had been a long time since he had driven a vehicle for a long distance without it and his leg was protesting. Even his car had cruise control. Apparently he wasn't as adept at keeping a steady speed on an open high-way as he thought he was. He consistently fluctuated by about five miles per hour which Kurt had graciously pointed out to the rest of the group. Between Emma and the kids that were now sprinting into an unprepared McDonald's he didn't know how he had any dignity left.

The first thing he hadn't been expecting to find almost unbelievable was the ease and confidence everyone displayed as they ordered. No one stopped to read the menu longer than it took to figure out what number to say and how much cash to produce. Most got large fries and cheeseburgers. It made him frown when he watched all of the girls including Mercedes who was clearly influenced by Britney and Quinn in front of her order a small French fry. He admired the African American girl. If she was uncomfortable with her body she never let on. That wasn't something he had ever thought about until Emma. To a much smaller scale the pressure on the girls to be skinny was there and he hated society for that.

Waiting for his own cheeseburger and fries and eventual McFlurry when everyone returned to order desert his eyes widened when he was handed coupons for a free Maple and Brown Sugar Oatmeal with fruit. _They can't seriously be serving oatmeal. That just makes everyone else who orders what I'm ordering look like more of slob._

The oatmeal advertisement actually was making him feel like a glutton he could only imagine what it would do to Emma. She was terrified of the place as it was and walking in one day under a bout of confidence to get a hamburger only to see a sign for oatmeal wouldn't help anyone. McDonald's could do little things here and there to be more health conscious but sooner rather than later they needed to accept that they are first and foremost a fast-food joint. The staple of modern day America and according to one photo shopped picture a fixture on Mars as well right next to the Martian Wall-Mart.

The second thing that took him off-guard was holding a real conversation over a meal not one broken off with words of encouragement or purposeful silence on his part so Emma wouldn't feel he was drawing attention to her eating. Mercedes was laughing whole-heartedly at something Kurt had whispered to her and soon he was even joining in with the joking that quickly turned to talk of Sectionals. In the back of his mind he was still floored by what he was seeing. This was non-disordered eating behavior and it drove home just how much the disorder that wasn't his had distorted his view of reality.

"Okay toys!"

Will noted that Brittney's voice could contain a myriad of pitches if she was yelling excitedly inches away from his ear.

Everyone had ordered a kids' meal with something on the side of they wanted more to eat. Rachel had even convinced him to play along joking that he could give the toy to Emma. It seemed like a unique idea so he went back and ordered one buoyed by cheers and laughter. Carrying the little cardboard box that he hadn't held since he had adamantly told his mother that big boys didn't get Happy Meals felt strange yet comforting and the initial reserve he had about walking around with one vanished when an older couple grinned sweetly at him with not one hint of mockery.

He hadn't even bothered to look at what the toys were in the plastic case to the left of the line but he was wishing he had when they all turned out to make some sort of noise. Of course they would be farm animals for some animated movie he had never heard of. Of course they would all make sounds reminiscent of whatever they were and of course he would get a cow.

Debating whether or not to keep it or pass it off to the little boy a few booths away. He was forced into the first option when the child excitedly produced the same toy. He couldn't have been over five and he looked over excitedly pointing to his newest possession and squeezing to make it moo. Will smiled and did the same thinking about the interaction at the fair with Kevin and the real thing. His actions merited a round of chuckles from his students but they joined in as well and McDonald's for about ten seconds sounded like a barn yard and he decided that if the workers got annoyed it was their fault.

Rounding everyone up was proving to be a task. The girls all paired up for the bathroom and Will wasn't sure what they were doing but he wouldn't have batted an eye if they had walked out in entirely different outfits given the amount of time they were taking.

"Kurt, for the last time, other door." Will had to smile at the boy's dramatics. His hands were planted firmly on his hips as he fixed him with a brief pained expression before he pivoted and sighed his way through the correctly labeled door.

Mercedes had been practically ordering him to come help her with make-up and although Will really didn't care what bathroom he used let alone walked into the rest of the patrons probably would.

"Dude, that's hilarious! Is it still going?" Will closed his eyes and counted to ten before he turned to address the owner of a comment that was capable of being applied to far too many situations.

"Finn," His voice was stern but he was getting frustrated, "what are you talking about?"

Finn shifted nervously looking over his shoulder to find that Puck had backed away. _I know it was you Puckerman, whatever you did. _

"Uh…the…" Noah took pity on the stuttering teen, clasping him on the shoulder, "The sink is overflowing."

_What? _

"What, how…" Will sighed, "What did you do?"

Shrugging his shoulders Puck informed him that he did what everyone should do after going to the bathroom; he washed his hands but that unlike everyone else he turned the faucets on all the way and that like every fast food place the maintenance department was crap because the sink kept running when he turned the facets.

"Okay…look, just, guys we don't have time for this. Just…go, out…van." Glancing over his shoulder he propelled a snickering Sam, a jumpy Finn and a smug Puck out of the restaurant hoping the manager who was regarding them with a little too much interest didn't randomly decide to check the guy's bathroom before they got out of the parking lot.

Will gunned it onto the highway to the tune of "On the Road Again" admittedly grateful he was traveling with kids who could sing. With the exception of a few of the more modern songs he enjoyed listening to them. It was an experience to be driving a van full of easily-bored, music-savvy individuals who all abandoned the melody to make up their own harmonies less than two seconds in.

Rachel was the non-conformist, listening to her iPod and from what Will could catch of the words she was mouthing through a concentrated frown she was going over sectional songs. It would make sense that they would both share that particular bad habit.

The two-lane was empty and had been for miles. Will let his eyes wander the countryside. It was almost like Virginia except that the land was unbelievably flat. He could see for as many miles to his left or right as he could straight ahead. This was the first year Sectionals were being held in a college town that was surrounded by crops for thirty miles plus on either side. It had come as a shock to him. Normally they were in a larger city not a small town. The college did have an exceptional music program with well-respected professors. Many students came from all over the country to get their bachelor's in either vocal or instrumental performance or education surprising because the institution was not a large university. Will always rooted for the underdog and had purposefully kept the location a secret just so he could watch everyone's reaction to arriving in a town that was less populated than Lima.

Nothing to interesting had snagged his attention. Some men had been assembling a grain bin which he hadn't known were put up from the top down but Emma probably already knew that. He wasn't sure what he would do if he did find something worthy of talking about. What he had told Rachel had been a very watered down version of the apprehension he had about calling Emma. The girl's spiel had made him arrive at the decision to call her tonight but having no idea what to say was an understatement. He would feel ashamed if someone called him while he was on a psych ward. It would be like an unspoken confirmation from the person he cared about most that he was crazy enough to be there.

_Hey how are you? I'm good, kids are good. Went to McDonald's…no better not say that. The kids are good, noisy. Rachel ended up sitting next to me and she listens to the songs before the competition like I do. Maybe I should give you her iPod. It was like driving through Virginia except really flat...this all sounds like crap. Hi, how are you? I'm out here having a weird yet semi-normal day just calling to remind you that I'm thinking of you in the hospital and you probably are mad at me about that but oh hey I saw some people putting a grain bin together…brilliant. I wish I was just town_

It wasn't like he was going to be gone for a week. The only reason they left today was because they had been unfortunate enough to pull an early morning time slot. The competition only ran on Saturday but he wanted them to have the full experience. As a student he had hated that they never stayed to watch the other groups and as a director he felt it would be a good way to learn things both good and bad about being a show choir. By the time the awards would be presented it would be late in the evening and he didn't want to drive back. Sunday was just a day for them to bum around and do nothing although he doubted it was going to be very eventful. They would probably aimlessly wander around town for a while. He wished now that he hadn't promised Sunday. If he had kept his mouth shut like he had planned it would be one less day away from Emma. He couldn't be at her side constantly nor could he be visiting all the time but he at least wanted to be in Lima.

The events of yesterday refused to stay there and the drive was handing him far too much time to worsen the matter. Her eyes had been so detached and yet she herself hadn't been detached. The way she had spoken, the tones she had used were things he would always remember. Standing in that room he had been almost afraid to move waiting for her to pounce and attack like a cornered animal finally snapping. That's what it had seemed like had happened with her. She had snapped under the pressure of everything and he had followed right along. He should have stayed calm and not lost his cool. Will grimaced as his words replayed in his mind. A million times he had wished that exchange was a bad dream. At least if it were a dream he wouldn't have to deal with it.

Emma standing across the room from him as blood flowed down her leg was one persistently present visual memory. Self-injury was a relatively foreign concept to him touched upon only by required seminars and during those they were only advised to watch for long sleeves in warm weather. Nothing about people cutting anywhere else had ever been mentioned and he had blindly accepted that without thinking it through. It was clearly illogical but he had only been in a hurry to get back to whatever he had felt was more important at the time. In all his years teaching he had never encountered a case of self-injury. He knew now that he probably had. That he had more than likely stood right next to someone with their leg bandaged crudely with paper towels and tape. As much as he wanted to he couldn't blame his ignorance on the seminars, not entirely. They had provided information he had half-heartedly stored away thinking he would never need it. Granted their information was severely lacking but he hadn't known that. He still wouldn't know that. No wonder Emma had always been mumbling things under her breath alongside him.

A bird of prey of some sort soared overhead. Hearing no comments from behind he turned around to find everyone asleep. Even Rachel had drifted off her iPod still playing. Smiling to himself when a pick-up passed and a man who had to be a farmer waved. Will waved back sobering instantly when it dawned on him that the whole time he had been talking with Emma yesterday morning about coming to him when she felt like cutting she had been sitting there with three fresh cuts on her leg.

It shouldn't have come as a shock but she had sounded so sincere when she had said she would come and get him. For a moment she had looked hesitant but it had passed before he could make anything of it. The oatmeal had been an expected, frustrating step back. Her refusal to eat anything else had been a few notches above disappointing made worse because he was the cause. He hadn't allowed himself to dwell on whether or not he was the cause of what she had done to her leg. He wasn't sure he wanted his guilt to triple in size if he found out he was.

The sun was starting to sink into the horizon, the golden colors reminding him of that near perfect day that had ended with them cuddled together on a hay bale. That was the Emma he wanted to get to know. That was the Emma that was buried under all of this mess. Up until that point he hadn't really been aware of what she was like symptom free but the woman he had glimpsed was everything he knew she could be, everything she would be when they were able to put all of this behind them.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

"Emma, Dr. Wicker is ready to see you."

Groaning under her breath Emma hauled her off the ledge closing the door completely just because she could as she imagined making faces at her shadow's floral-printed backside. The latest side to her personality followed along. She was never rebellious or purposefully defiant but it was an aspect that seemed to have been dredged up from the recesses yesterday and it hadn't left yet and Emma wasn't sure if she wanted it to.

Stepping through a normal-sized wooden door Emma found herself in another cramped room that clearly doubled as more than just an office. A sandy-haired man who instantly reminded her of John Boy on the TV series The Walton's her mom had forced her to watch sitting calmly behind a desk.

Emma didn't move as she studied him. He appeared to be in his late thirties and unlike most psychiatrists she had been appointed by a hospital his face wasn't closed off or unsuccessfully hiding a desire to be anywhere else. Old Emma would have been reserved yet courteous but today Emma was squelching her and had no desire to be either.

"Dr. Wicker I presume?" She stated dryly scanning his face while waiting for an answer.

"Your presumption is correct. Ms. Pillsbury I assume?"

A few seconds ticked by before Emma could find her voice. No hospital psychiatrist had ever spoken to her in a manner that made it appear as if they weren't bored out of their skull and not once had they sounded amused. Truthfully she felt herself warming to him already from his demeanor alone but she wasn't ready to submit to that. Emma glanced over her shoulder quickly as the door closed.

"Well, my shadow just walked out so yep" Emma popped the end of the word, "you got me."

Dr. Wicker only smiled at her from his chair his blue eyes twinkling. Trace amounts of frustration were beginning to make themselves known. She wanted to be problematic and difficult for him not a form of comic relief.

"Well, Emma, if I may, I see you were brought in yesterday by a William Schuester for self-injury. Want to tell me anything more about that?" His chin rested lightly in the palm of one hand.

At the mention of Will's name her throat constricted. Temporarily she had been able to displace the magnitude of how deeply she missed him but this man had replaced it in abundance. Emma hated him for that.

"Everything you need to know is right there in that report. OCD with the cliché co-morbid eating disorder, Mysophobia, self-injury." Emma stopped her list regarding him with a cool expression.

"Co-morbid? That's not a term I hear often from someone on that side of the desk," he glanced at the papers in his hand, "ah bachelor's in psychology that explains it. You're professors would be impressed Emma." His grin was irresistibly sincere but she trampled over it anyways.

"My professors would be impressed that I'm on a psychiatric ward for the third time showcasing how messed up I still am in my thirties? I highly doubt that. I don't think this is the way they pictured their students gaining experience in the field." Emma leaned against the back of the chair as she sat down.

"They would be impressed with your memory but moving on or back as it is, I have here that you haven't eaten anything today. Care to explain?" He sounded curious and simple not indifferent and complicated, the running mates to professionalism.

"Oh I don't know I think the terms eating disorder and anorexia are fairly self-explanatory but if you really need help you could consult the DSM." She leveled her eyes with his; defiance against calm acceptance.

"Point taken but know that if this continues long enough we will put a feeding tube in and no," he held up one hand cutting her off before the first word left her mouth, "it doesn't matter how bad you think you are or are not. We are required to use one after a set amount of time. Remember that at dinner this evening seeing as we are talking through snack time."

Even though he was warning her it was nothing but polite but there had been something in his voice she couldn't put her finger on that told her their meeting through the day's final snack time was not an accident. Old Emma acknowledged that the man was good at what he did. New Emma maintained that she was better.

"You wouldn't do that." _I know you would._

"You know we would." His mouth quirked up like he knew he had just mimed her silent exchange.

They talked briefly about the medications she had been put in while she listened half-heartedly to the side-effects and causes for concern she already knew. He didn't stay on the topic long and Emma wondered if that wasn't due to her background, either way she was pleased with herself so far.

Before she realized what she was doing Emma found herself doing most of the talking via answering questions about Will's occupation and how they had met. When she brought up Glee and Sectionals his face brightened and he fondly mentioned his show choir days.

* * *

**Dr. Wicker's POV**

He liked her. It was obvious the way she was acting didn't come naturally and he was fairly certain she was probably a very nice, compassionate young woman. Her momentarily pained facial expression when he had dropped his name was proving itself to be the notable observation he had pegged it as. His seaway into getting her to discuss deeper issues had just opened up.

Neither of them touched on how many days she would be in. Both of them knew it was only a stressor on the first day and he really didn't have an idea yet. She needed to start cooperating but he had a feeling she would before long. Most people here couldn't maintain a front for any lengthy amount of time for varying reasons. Emma's reason was probably going to be a high school Spanish teacher who directed a show choir on the side.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Getting everyone into their motel rooms hadn't been nearly as hectic as it should have been. There was no way fate would let him off that easy, something was going to align to disturb his relative peace sooner or later.

Will collapsed onto the bed inhaling the scent of the entire room off the green comforter his face was smashed into. Emma would be having a fit if she were here. The bed would have been stripped before he had gotten a chance to sit on it.

His groan was muffled as he thought about his earlier agreement with himself while talking with Rachel about calling her. The whole day had come and gone and he still felt like reliving the nightmare of performing in jeans and a t-shirt in competition would be easier to deal with than what was probably going to turn into a game of charades via phone or worse him rambling on about nonsense.

He dug his right hand into his pocket debating about capping the idea when it took him a few tries to get his phone free. The number was already entered as a second line for the hospital. Will rolled over onto his back holding the phone to his ear pressing the button before he had time to think about it hoping his relaxed position would somehow alleviate his nerves.

A feminine voice he didn't recognize answered. Remembering the nurses' advice Will said his name and who he was calling for thinking that it was odd to be speaking with another patient.

"Ooh, so you are the Will I have heard so much about then huh? You're girl here tells me you're a singing and dancing Spanish teacher." Will laughed when he heard Emma reprimand the woman.

"Denielle, I'm guessing from the background noise," he paused, "as curious and frightened as I am to know what else she may have told you may I please speak with Emma." A warm chuckle faded away as the phone exchanged hands.

As soon as Emma's voice replaced Denielle's his heart felt like it stopped. He hadn't given any thought to how difficult it might be to hear her. It was worse than difficult. It was painful.

"Hey there, how are you? Got the kids into their motel rooms without any huge incidents so that's probably going to bite me in the butt later," His eyes were closed again as soon as he replayed his hollow opener."How was your day? How's the deplorable hospital food?"

Will froze seconds after Sue's words left his mouth. His nervousness had one upped him on a million different levels. He hadn't asked Sue but he was positive that bringing up food when someone was in the hospital with an eating disorder wasn't the most tactful way to nudge a conversation along.

"It's…deplorable." Now she sounded like the nervous one.

The pause told him everything she hadn't.

Bringing his hand up Will stopped himself just before he ran it through his hair throwing the remote across the room instead. The compartment door and batteries that littered the floor told him he would have been better off with his usual display of frustration. At least that one couldn't potentially cause damage to property that wasn't his. _Where is this temper coming from? This isn't me._

"They've threatened me with a feeding tube you know. Apparently they are required by law or some shit if you don't eat after a set amount of days." Her tone had just transformed from the woman he knew to the one he had met yesterday.

Letters refused to form words in his mind as he got hung up on the severity of her statement that she either didn't realize or refused to acknowledge complicated by the casual use of a swear word like it wasn't extraordinarily out of place in her functional vocabulary.

"Yeah…well that's probably for your own good." He grimaced not wanting to preach to her. "You should eat something though. It would get them off your back."

Will wasn't sure what role he was playing. The first act he had been the caring, slightly blunt boyfriend but in the reprise he was the manipulative villain that sidled up to the main character convincing them their intentions were one in the same. He definitely didn't have the same outcome in mind that Emma had. She would probably only eat something so they would stop pestering her. He wanted her to eat regardless of how they reacted.

"I've thought of that…Will?" Effortlessly she slid back into the Emma he recognized, "I'm sorry I got mad at you. It's not your fault I'm here…I'm sorry I'm here in the first place."

Abandoning his theory about relaxed posture equaling calmed nerves Will propped himself up against the wall at the head of the bed opening his mouth but producing no sound not because he couldn't but because he kept voluntarily stopping it.

Any direction he took his answer in could result in a possible disaster so he opted for honesty and hoped it was only a barricade and not a washed out road standing by to meet him.

"I know you're not mad at me Emma and as far as being there, "pausing to breathe deep Will chucked his flash light and descended into the darkness," don't apologize for something you need to get better."

"Would McKinnely high miss a flute if it suddenly went missing?"

_Assumptions, I need to stop making assumptions. _

"Probably not, no one wants to play one ever since Sue made that local commercial about not being a Sue." Will trailed off caught up in wondering how some students ever graduated.

He was certain Emma could feel his smile as he agreed to provide the illegally sequestered instrument and deposit it into Emma's hands at the main door so she could present it to her friend.

"Emma wait," Will called out seconds before she hung up, "did you find your stars?"

"There's more than one?" Her excitement was tangible the way his appreciation for what she wanted to do for Denielle probably had been.

"Cinco."

"Five, why five?" _Her accent is always stronger when she says five. _

"Well, I wanted to give you six but I would have had to open a new package for one little star and I know how much things like that bother you and I figured twelve would be a bit overboard." _I would be embarrassed for you if I did that._

Emma inhaled softly but was cut off when Denielle's voice appeared out of nowhere on the line telling her to go sit down next to the tray with her name on it. Will sighed when he heard Emma's protest and grinned when he heard a stubborn rebuttal.

"Go. Sit. Down."

Deni was whispering into his ear before he could congratulate her on getting Emma to obey where food was involved, "Alright, so she loves you, I'll tell her you love her too and don't worry I'll make sure she eats something." He knew better than to try and beat the click.

Snapping his phone shut Will flopped onto his stomach sprawling out spread-eagle across the bed with his feet dangling over the edge his every thought centered on the light weight of a heavily creased Ziploc bag that had spent the day in his pocket.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts?

I realize sectionals being in a podunk town isn't very plausible but I'm pulling the fiction card and I have no idea if they ever gave Emma a middle name so I used a random letter.

I need to do this more but seriousy you guys, thank you so much for the amazing reviews. For someone who hasn't (and still doesn't) bill themselves as a writer they are what keep me out here in this proverbial limb (to me) because as I have told almost everyone in my life; I don't write. :)


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: This one is short. I haven't had much free time and I won't have much for a while so I wanted to post something for you guys. Thanks for staying patient! Be forewarned: Time jumps ahead.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty One**

"Emma, I'm going to be honest. This is a short-term ward. At the most you will stay five days and the only difference between the woman admitted the week before and the one being discharged will be the direction she takes through those doors. These places are like airport security's worst nightmare. They carelessly let every passenger carry on a lifetime of a luggage and stow it away conveniently for the duration of the flight. What they do make you check, they do such a good job keeping it accounted for that you never have the chance to lose it. You walked in here with an eating disorder Emma and you're going to walk out with one. You have a choice that you can't keep avoiding anymore. You have to figure out if you really want to keep doing this. You're shooting yourself in the foot and you're taking him down with you. You have to figure this out but you don't have to do it alone. There are options and as a friend only trying to help, I think you need to consider them."

* * *

**Rachel's POV**

Rachel nodded in Kurt's direction holding her breath as he did the same and turned to face their director.

"Mr. Schue as much as I appreciate your voluntary surrendering of a Sunday I could find more items of worth at a Dollar General."

"What are you saying Kurt?" Mr. Schue asked around a chunk of biscuit courtesy of the motels continental breakfast.

"He's saying, " Quinn cut in, "that he would rather be in Lima. We should go Mr. Schue. We are already leaving with first place, that's enough and besides, we need to be saving for nationals."

Two strawberries found their way into Rachel's mouth to prevent her from reprimanding the cheerleader for not having at least half of the money set aside already. She had been saving ever since she learned they were going to be held in New York.

Last night as she had been wearing holes in the motel lobby waiting to see if anyone would respond to her mass texted summons Rachel had convinced herself that this was the right thing to do. To her surprise, everyone had shown up and they had been nothing but compassionate and politely inquisitive. The vote she had planned on to see when they would leave hadn't been needed.

Telling them about Ms. Pillsbury hadn't been a damper on the sense of achievement she felt when she caught her reflection in the first place trophy that was now swaddled lovingly in blankets on the back seat of the van. It was still theirs and Mr. Schue had choked up when he had hugged everyone individually saying they deserved it, that they should walk back through the doors of McKinley with their heads held high. His tears had been in the moment, a byproduct of the present not tainted with other reasons he rightfully possessed. It had been Puck who had quietly commended the man's strength as they had sat in a small circle on the lobby floor in a rare moment of honesty admitting that if he were dealing with what their teacher was he would be a mess. No one had spoken in response but everyone had silently agreed as their gaze traced the nonsensical swirls on the carpet beneath them.

Eyes sharp with understanding zeroed in on hers and Rachel slouched under their intensity. Kurt's spiel was supposed to have left Mr. Schue in the dark about what they were doing. Rachel twisted her tattered napkin nervously watching as small pieces littered her lap, catching all around her the rapid flicker of eyes proffering silent apologies before they too dropped to their owner's lap leaving her front and center on an empty stage.

"Mr. Schue, I-" He cut her off with a wave of his hand and Rachel prepared for the worst. She wouldn't be too happy if a student had taken it upon themselves to blab her personal life.

"Thank you Rachel, thank you," he stated quietly. Slowly he addressed the rest of the table, "I don't know what I did to deserve you guys."

"You taught us that we can come together despite our differences, that we can be good at something and be proud of that. You showed us what was important in life. You taught us life has priorities Mr. Schue and right now Ms. P. is yours and don't apologize for that. Kurt really wanted to check out a sale at Wal-mart. I saw the ad in his locker."

Everyone stared at Mike with open mouths not knowing what to say to the teenager who rarely spoke let alone said something so candid, everyone except Kurt who adamantly declared that someone had slipped the ad in his locker as a joke.

As they packed and made their way out to the van Mr. Schue was playing host to more nervous energy than he had been entertaining before the competition. He was trying to act composed but when they had trickled outside to find him already in the van prepared with a lame excuse about warming it up because of the cold front that had come through the night before it had proven useless. No one teased him. They were all secretly hoping that one day they would have someone like him, someone who cared so much they couldn't hide it no matter how hard they tried.

* * *

**Will's POV**

The ease with which he had confiscated the flue that now rode beside him in the passenger seat of his car left Will questioning the efficiency of the schools' security measures. The band room hadn't been locked but if given a choice someone would probably choose to lift something more valuable than a musical instrument. As far as Will was concerned he could walk in tomorrow to find empty space where every last computer should be. Two infected flash drives with short cuts instead of folders rendering it impossible to access information unless it hadn't been in a folder to begin with was enough to get Will to wash his hands of the technology. As much as he could get by with anyways.

Most of his life had been peacefully spent without flash drives but now that he wasn't using them at the school he couldn't understand how he had managed for so long without them. He had overheard his students saying the same and out of a principle steeped in frustration he had let Santana's metaphor likening McKinley high's USB ports to the skankiest whores in town slide. Why argue with what's right.

Nothing of any real value was lost, just documents he had no desire to re-type. The lesson plans were what he should be concerned about the most but a letter he had uncharacteristically started to Emma on Word instead of paper took precedence and became the reason he was determined to get the virus removed even if he had to take it to someone. A lot of work for something he wasn't sure he was ever going to show her. If it hadn't been for the fact that he had started on it at the beginning of their relationship he would just sit down and re-write what he could remember. As it was, it had been too long and wording that he didn't want to give up was evading his memory.

Will placed the car in park grimacing when his phone rang swearing when the caller ID showed it was Emma's father. This was one conversation he had successfully convinced himself wouldn't happen. It had been so long since he had called that the chances of him calling now seemed dismal. The only thing garnering the word "dismal" was Will's current string of luck. _Just tell him she's fine and hang up._

"Will, I've been trying to reach Emma since yesterday morning but I keep getting her voicemail. Where is she? Is she alright?" _Retreat._

Backing away from his original plan Will imparted that Emma had simply lost her phone and that it was on silent from the school day. He attempted to go into detail about the futility behind searching for a phone on silent but he himself was silenced.

'Son, I know your hearts' in the right place but I don't take kindly to being lied to especially when it involves my little girl. Now, what's going on here? Let me speak with her."

"Sir," Will decided to shoulder as much of the blame as he could himself, "I took her to the hospital yesterday." He had been intending to say more, to soldier through accusations and questions regarding his sanity. Unexpected silence only served to replicate itself and neither party spoke for what seemed like hours.

"What happened?"

Keeping his voice calm Will declined answering the man's question but when he was asked again the edge he had heard Emma speak reverently of, the one she had said was almost impossible to resist was hard in his ear and just like she had said everyone did, he surrendered. This was a man who rarely got angry and to be on the receiving end of such was nowhere he wanted to be and Will soon found himself answering before he had the chance to tell himself he shouldn't.

"She um, cut her leg pretty bad-"

An audible sigh of relief cleaved the rest of his explanation, "Don't take this the wrong way but I thought you were going to say it had something to do with something she did on purpose not an accident."

Will opted to let his silence do the correcting.

"Oh God, it wasn't an accident…how bad?"

"No, it wasn't an accident and she probably should have gotten stitches," as he spoke he let his head come to rest in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the handle to the driver's door, his shoulders slumped as what had been a steady rain grew in intensity the sound of drops slamming against the car almost deafening. It seemed like the weather was reinforcing that all he ever did was betray her trust.

They carefully negotiated their way through a delicate conversation. Will told him that he didn't need to come down in the end relenting and saying it was his decision but that Emma would probably be embarrassed. Somewhat reluctantly he gave him the number to the ward already dreading the argument he could see forming on the horizon, matching the thunderheads. As he watched the approaching storm he imagined Emma as the lightening and himself as ground zero. He jumped with the thunder.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

"_Emma, I'm going to be honest. This is a short-term ward. At the most you will stay five days and the only difference between the woman admitted the week before and the one being discharged will be the direction she takes through those doors. These places are like airport security's worst nightmare. They carelessly let every passenger carry on a lifetime of a luggage and stow it away conveniently for the duration of the flight. What they do make you check, they do such a good job keeping it accounted for that you never have the chance to lose it. You walked in here with an eating disorder Emma and you're going to walk out with one. You have a choice that you can't keep avoiding anymore. You have to figure out if you really want to keep doing this. You're shooting yourself in the foot and you're taking him down with you. You have to figure this out but you don't have to do it alone. There are options and as a friend only trying to help, I think you need to consider them."_

"I know Sue. I know."

Emma grabbed the brochure Sue was holding out with a small smile that died instantly when she saw the sympathy in the other woman's eyes. They had been talking for over an hour now making Emma grateful that adult wards didn't have set lengths for visitations. Every hint of anger she had ever felt for the Cheerio's coach melted as she learned about her battle with Anorexia. It was surreal to listen to her, to hear someone talk like they were sitting inside her head, refreshing and scary all at once that she wasn't alone the way the disorder led her to believe.

She didn't have to read to know what the pamphlet was about and Sue knew that, jumping right in by saying that they could walk outside right now and ask for a comprehensive assessment adding softly that Will was already waiting outside in his car for a phone call if Emma wanted him to be there when her options were disclosed. She didn't have the chance to ask how Will was back already Sue filled her in leaving Emma reeling that so many people were coming together for her.

The coach had looked up Rachel's cell phone number and called her late last night asking if she would talk to the Glee club about coming home earlier today. Rachel had agreed and then called Sue back before they left so she could contact Will and let him know a rough time frame for when he should be at the hospital just in case she decided she wanted him with her.

"Do you see how many people care about you Ginger? We want our grape-cleansing, sanitizer sporting guidance counselor back and Will wants his girlfriend. We're right behind you. You're not going to lose who you are. You're going to lose who you _think _you are but that person isn't you. You're worth more than a number on a scale. You mean the world to many, to one man in particular. I know that deep down you are tired of this game. Think about it Emma, you can be so much with this behind you. Imagine going out on a date with Will and _laughing _as you eat dinner." Sue paused and simply stared.

"I'm scared. I don't want to get fat."

Emma didn't stiffen when Sue leaned forward and pulled her into a hug whispering her understanding. She gave in and let the woman who seemed to have lived her life comfort her.

"Okay."

Clarification wasn't needed. Sue got up and led Emma out of the room and over to the front desk where she asked for an assessment. It would take roughly an hour during which Dan, Dr. Wicker and Kristen would consult each other about the severity of her eating disorder and decide on a treatment option. When it was over they would come get Emma and whoever else she wanted to be along and pull them into the same room to provide treatment options. When Emma had told Sue it was okay if she stayed during the briefing the woman had declined saying that it wasn't her place. Her face was compassionate and her voice gentle as she talked with Will over her cell telling him to go ahead and come in.

* * *

**Deni's POV**

The redhead really was lucky. She had an entire support system of people standing right there next to her against a disease that personally, she had no experience with but must be hell. The older blonde in the tracksuit had been a riot, handing out personalized insults with a small smirk showing she clearly enjoyed the activity before she had sobered. Deni had told Emma it was fine when she apologized for heading to her room but she really did want to know what they were talking about.

Eavesdropping was something she dabbled in shamelessly and had since she was young. From what she could gather Emma's guy would be walking through the door any minute now. Deni wanted to run up to Emma and tell her that she believed she was making the right decision but she wasn't sure how and as far as the younger woman knew Deni was still in the dark on the upcoming events.

The doors clicked and Deni lifted her head to catch sight of a soaked Will his eyes instantly trained on Emma his brow crinkled in relief and a small smile breaking out when she slowly started walking towards him. Deni couldn't hold back her chuckle. She didn't understand that woman at all. Had Will been visiting her she would have bounded across the room and jumped into his arms not caring if she knocked him down. Emma was surprisingly reserved with her emotions like she was afraid of showing them. A smile did break however when she reached up and peeled something shiny off of Will's nose and faintly Deni heard him ask what number he was. She didn't catch the answer.

Deni's own smile faded and her mouth fell open when Will unzipped his jacket pulling out an oblong case that she would recognize anywhere. She was already standing when Emma turned around and started walking towards her. It sounded cliché but right then as she stood on a psych ward, a case gently clutched in her friends' hands containing an instrument that had once been her life, something she had thought would always be her life was the most beautiful, heart-breaking thing she had seen in twenty years.

"Play for me," Emma requested simply coming to a stop inches away from the chair Deni hadn't been able to step away from.

"Where did you…I can't believe…" Deni gently traced her finger over the contour of the trademark high school horn case relishing in the click the latches made as she popped them open, letting the sound memory transport her back days of seven in the morning marching band practice where she had stood on a podium calling out to the band, her band at the time it had felt, to attention. On that podium she had always envisioned herself as the band's real director not a just a student drum major. She could still feel the baton between her fingers, the wind messing her hair and she could still hear the dramatic effect of a band facing forward playing at full volume only to rotate and march down the back of the field cutting their sound in half by direction alone.

"I told Will to grab it. Now play something!" Her excitement was contagious and soon the flute was in Deni's hands, her fingers going to the correct positions as though it hadn't been two decades since she had touched an instrument.

Praying that some of her musical knowledge remained she brought the flute to her lips, pursed her mouth and blew sliding her eyes closed as the sound of a steady F spilled forth. Gently she rotated the flute outwards to bring her pitch down surprised she was still able to tell when she was sharp or flat. The feeling of playing again was indescribable and she wanted to cry. It was so much more than a flute. It was a key to her past, to the life she had always imagined for herself and holding it wasn't painful like she had thought it would have been. It felt normal, right.

Tentatively she searched her memory banks for a standard b-flat scale earning a heartfelt note of appreciation from Will when she was able to successfully play it. His prowess in music was obvious as he politely told her how impressive it was that she was able to tune to nothing but the note in her mind's ear. When he produced sheet music and jokingly counted her off she couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of this moment. Other patients and staff had gathered around with smiles on their faces encouraging her to play the piece Will had set in front of her, propped up on a chair. She hadn't gotten through the first six measures before he apologized murmuring that he should have searched around for something more difficult. The song seemed to play itself with the exception of one passage with a couple out of place triplets. Will stepped up next to her counting as she played smiling when she got it right. She continued to the end of the song the last note cut short when her breath was cut short by Will's whispered words.

"It's never too late to go back to school you know and don't worry about the flute, it's yours. No one was playing it anyways. Think about it. You'd be a really great director"

Now she couldn't stop her tears and Deni turned away sniffling in embarrassment. She was almost forty and crying over someone giving her a flute on a psychiatric ward. Looking over at Will she thanked him with everything she had. He and Emma were the first people to have faith in her, to encourage her to pursue what she wanted instead of trying to gently direct her to something more practical. No one had ever taken such an interest, not even her parents who had been supportive but from such a distance it had seemed like she was on her own. _Could I go back to school? I don't have a job. The half-way house helps with tuition and there's student aid…_

A round of applause filled the dining room causing Deni to blush furiously. She had forgotten she was the focal point of everyone's attention. She didn't notice when a woman came out to retrieve Emma and Will leading them into a room tucked into a corner. She was too busy playing delighted that after so many years she could still remember bits and pieces of things she had performed in high school as she allowed herself to imagine that she was demonstrating for a high school band of her own.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

As soon as Dan stepped around the corner the warm happiness Deni's playing brought about vanished leaving fear in its wake. She had felt so confident when she had agreed to this but now that it was finally happening she wanted to call it off and run. Will sensed her trepidation his hand finding her lower back all of the times that gesture had spurred her forward flashing through her mind as she stepped into her uncertainty.

Nervously she returned Kristen's greeting, nodding by way of Dr. Wicker. There weren't enough chairs but Will wouldn't allow anyone to go and get one. It felt odd to have him sitting on his knees next to her his hand resting on her knee providing nothing but comfort while they waited.

"Okay guys in my experience the easiest way to do this is to just cut to the chase," Dr. Wicker began amiably, "Emma we have a program here called Day Hospital. It's an intensive treatment option for both adolescents and adults with an eating disorder who are medically stable but still require in-depth treatment due to their disorder's complexity. It's eleven hours a day, five days a week and starts at seven in the morning. Your disorder is severe but not severe enough by our eating disorder units' standards to merit inpatient treatment. There are only four beds devoted to outpatient eating disorder treatment, something we have been trying to change for years. There are good and bad points to this. You will get to go home every night but you will lose our support in the evenings, there is a number you can call if you need to and on weekends or evenings when you feel you do need some extra support we have temporary Residential Support Homes. Many patients use these if their spouse or family is going to be gone and they don't feel they can handle food preparation on their own."

Emma heard Will release a breath he must have been holding his mind probably having already launched ahead to that particular scenario. She hated that he was having to work around her like this, like she was a baby and he the sitter. If you factored in that his monitoring her food intake in as the primary reason she almost fit the definition of baby in her mind. She couldn't look at anyone her guilt forcing her to close her eyes as she wished she were anywhere else.

"What are you thinking right now Emma?" Dan asked quietly.

Shifting in her seat she felt the weight of everyone's eyes upon her, crushing her, making her aware of everything about her body; how her hand was resting on her leg inches from Will's, her thighs pressed against the bottom of the chair looking huge through her sweatpants and she was glad the hospital didn't allow hair ties leaving her able to hide behind a curtain of red.

Her curtain parted as Will slowly tucked one half behind her ear searching her face silently encouraging her to answer. Looking down she couldn't help but return his faint smile.

"I'm scared and I feel like everyone is having to take care of me like I'm some baby." Will's face fell and his brow creased showing that he didn't agree with what she was saying.

"It's okay to be scared and you're taking the steps you need to take to get better and there is nothing to be embarrassed about in that." This was the first time Kristen had spoke, her voice calm and soothing.

"I think you should try it Em. Don't worry about school. I'll take care of that okay. You need this Emma." Will blinked rapidly as his advice turned into a confession, "I'm not enough Emma. I know that."

Everything in her life seemed to be culminating at this point. Maybe she had known it had all been leading to hospitalization even if it was partial the entire time. Maybe he had known it too. Taking Will's hand in hers she nodded through unshed tears fixing her gaze on Dr. Wicker.

"How long?"

Somewhere in her past she remembered reading about a day program for eating disorders that was a month which at the time had seemed like an absurdly short amount of time. Now it seemed like an eternity and she found herself hoping they would say something that could be calculated in weeks.

"An average stay is three months. It depends on the patient and their disorder if it goes longer than that but it's almost never shorter." Dr. Wicker informed her softly.

Emma let her head fall with the tears she couldn't hold back anymore. Will never moved from his place at her feet whispering that everything would be alright and she wished she could believe him when he told her the three months would be up before she knew it. The only thing that was keeping her in the room was the knowledge that at the end of each day she would be able to go home to him, to safety.

Dr. Wicker continued and silently she thanked him for not drawing attention to her reaction as she worked to let his words soak in. It was preferred if Will would drive her to and from the hospital. As an adult she could walk out of the program if she wanted and when emotions became intense the lure of driving away would supposedly be almost impossible to resist. Apparently they had lost some patients that way. Will agreed before Emma could interject joking that he needed an excuse to get up earlier anyways. No one laughed.

Not only would she be in individual therapy but there would also be family therapy or in their case, couples' therapy, once a week. She would also be attending groups for Motivation Enhancement, psychoeducation, self-esteem, body image, interpersonal relationships, nutrition and eating patterns as well as a specialized group on grief and loss. Towards the end of the program they would begin taking group shopping trips to a store located on campus that was designed for their use which to Emma translated into the removal of nutrition labels and sounded like hell. She didn't remember how to shop anymore and figured that was probably the point_. _

They were going to transfer her in the morning. Will would meet her on the Unit where they would attend an orientation meeting with other new patients. Emma hoped she found someone she got along with. It hurt that she was going to be leaving Deni. The woman's expression when she first saw the flute in was something she would never forget just like the gold star Will had attempted to stick to his wet nose, an antic that had gotten her to laugh despite everything. She loved that about him. Evolutionary psychology would be proud. According to the field men preferred a female who appreciated their humor and woman preferred a male that could produce humor.

Will stayed through supper pretending to ignore her as she poked her way through her meal telling Deni why he loved being a teacher. To Emma's surprise he broke a hospital rule passing her a slip of paper with his number ordering her to call if she ever needed anything saying that he got pretty good at financial aid paperwork while he was in college and that he would be more than happy to help her slog through it. Deni's smile was sincere as she stared at his writing. For a moment Emma got lost in the tiny spark of hope she saw on the other woman's face forgetting the piece of bread that had all the consistency of a piece of cardboard in her mouth. All moments of semi-normalcy had a horrendous track record and this one felt no need to differentiate.

"Name and date of birth please." Emma looked up to find the same nurse who had handed out her meds before standing inches away dashing any chance Will might think she was addressing Deni by staring directly at her.

Everything felt like it was closing in and she became hyperaware of herself and her surroundings instantly. All sounds were intensified. When Deni murmured something about going to see if she could remember her sophomore marching band song it seemed like she had screamed. He wasn't supposed to find out, not like this.

Her name fell from her lips in a defeated whisper and she watched her hand reach out, her fingers wrapping around the cup resisting the urge to crush the pills that now rested in her palm into powder. _He really can't deny it now, can he? Just take the pills. He knows anyways. Go on, take them, make sure you keep him safe from your insanity._

Emma downed them in one gulp of water her voice bitter, "It's alright now. I'm medicated." She told the voice, Will and no one.

Will frowned and asked what was wrong. She could tell by his expression that he already knew.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"I didn't want you to know." Emma muttered lamely.

"Don't think that way. If you need them, you need them." He wanted to ask her to look at him but he wouldn't get anywhere.

"Then why did you hide the Prozac?" She accused with a cold tone.

He studied the table and wished he was at least attempting to come up with a response. The only thing he was accomplishing was actually contemplating the pattern of swirls in front of him like his mind knew the endeavor to explain his behavior was completely pointless.

"Exactly, let me ask you a question Will," Emma's voice had lowered, calmed like she was reliving a moment from her past, "If you walked into work one day and your mom had been diagnosed with cancer it would be hard but you would tell your coworkers right?" He nodded not sure where she was taking this.

"Now, what if over the weekend instead of getting diagnosed with cancer she was institutionalized. Would you say anything then?" Emma paused, her face indicating she wasn't surprised at his silence.

"In a night class my professor asked us that question in regards to rape victims and reasons they might not tell anyone. I'll never forgot her words, that if we were in the field and had a problem admitting such things than we had maybe better be pretty understanding of others who didn't feel comfortable with it. You just watched me down tangible proof that I'm messed up, chemically imbalanced and whereas your stint with Prozac was never meant to be more than temporary, more than likely, the rest of my medicated life began yesterday. That hurts Will. It hurts to know that I have to rely on drugs to get through my day and please don't tell me that other people have it worse or that I'm lucky they have meds that will help me. I guilt trip myself enough and all those comments do is make me feel guilty for feeling guilty. It has to bother you, my being on medications. I mean what if someone found out, someone at work, or a student? What would you do?"

The stigma associated with mental illness was an aspect of life that like anorexia he hadn't given much thought to and had unfortunately been led astray on. At one time he had assumed being "mentally ill" meant being crazy. He had learned over the last few months that the only way it involved being crazy was if that was how the person saw themselves to begin with. Never had he considered what it would be like for people who worked in the field of psychology. Suddenly he found himself wondering what it was like for a psychiatrist if they had to see a psychiatrist.

"It doesn't matter if someone finds out. Besides, they wouldn't know what they were for anyways and if they did then, who cares? It's none of their business. I don't care that you are taking medications. I don't know how to get that across to you but trust me I don't. It doesn't change anything. I'm only a little worried that you won't keep taking them." He felt like he was talking to a three year old, "will you?"

Twenty minutes later he still hadn't gotten a direct answer to his question so he let it go deciding that lightening the subject matter before leaving was a wiser course of action than beating a dead horse.

Burying his face in Emma's hair as they hugged good-bye he told her to find the rest of the stars whispering that he would see her in the morning reminding her that she would be fine. As he walked out he didn't look back. Emma called out to him but he only repeated that she would be okay and kept moving. He didn't think he ever would be able to turn around. He didn't want to see her face because if he did it meant she would see his and all the emotion that threatened to spill over. Emma would misinterpret what she would find. The anger he felt wasn't directed at her but at himself and the frustration derived from having to leave her in the first place. All of that would be twisted beyond recognition in her mind. One glance wasn't worth all of that no matter how badly he wanted it.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The nine minutes it took Karen to lead her and Will to the main doors of the Eating Disorder Unit hadn't been long enough for Emma to accomplish anything. Her thoughts and emotions remained unchecked, focused and distant, an unsettling yet familiar disconnect between her two selves.

Emma followed Will with hesitant obedience each stocking-clad footfall bearing the sound of enemy fire with his silent presence the white flag keeping her moving forward without running.

"Good Morning," Emma looked up to find a petite, African American woman to the right of a Power Point presentation needlessly reminding everyone in the conference room they were here for eating disorder treatment.

"I'm Stephanie, the director of Rivergroves Day Hospital Eating Disorder Treatment Program. We're running a bit behind schedule this morning so in the interest of having the time to take weights this is going to a crash course of a crash course." Stephanie smiled and Emma groaned.

"Over the next three months, "reflexively Emma's jaw tensed, "you will be establishing lifestyle changes geared towards not only achieving but maintaining recovery from your eating disorder through a combination of Family-based and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Rattling off the definition before the speaker did with a few misplaced additions of her own Emma was already dreading the once a week session with Will. The twice a week appointments she was going to have on her own were feasible but dragging him further into her mess, closer to the secrets she didn't want him to know, wasn't.

Casually she studied those occupying her situation while Stephanie droned on. The patients were immediately recognizable, their eyes beacons of fear and anxiety sometimes mixed with small traces of hope and determination. Emma wasn't sure what her eyes held yet.

Noticing Stephanie appeared to be nearing the end of her presentation Emma forced herself to put forth the same amount of rapt attention Will was, hers, admittedly less sincere.

"We at Rivergroves know that one day all of you will beat this thing and until then, we are here for you. No judgment, just friends that you can count on." Emma's attention was no longer forced, the ladies words sounding as though they could have come from the man next to her.

Emma was so wrapped up in what she was hearing that she didn't notice Will shift in his seat so that he was facing her. She did feel his breath on her neck.

"Cheers," he whispered simply before resuming his earlier position like he hadn't said anything at all. He could always get her to smile.

The orientation lasted until 7:30 allocating Will and his newly acquired stack of papers just enough time to get to McKinley. The two-dimensional, multi-colored forest residing in her hands read "patient" whereas his had read "family." His had been blue and had granted him the ability to leave. Hers were purple and granted her free passage into a glorified closet that she knew with one hundred percent certainty contained a scale.

"Okay hun, just step right on in here." A heavy-set nurse motioned Emma into the room that sure enough contained a scale that seemed to leer at her from its perch in the far corner.

"I'll just close the door. Go ahead and put this gown on, just holler when you're ready and we'll get your weight." Emma felt the fear surfacing despite the woman's efforts to make it seem like they were doing something as mundane as picking out a book.

Slowly she removed her clothes folding them neatly on the table next to her. Before the word "ready" left her mouth her eyes were closed. Emma relied on the mental map she had constructed of the room to lead her to the scale almost flinching when her foot brushed against it. She felt like the woman could see her entire backside in the standard hospital gown that along her skin. Emma didn't feel like things could get any more embarrassing.

"Okay," the woman said as Emma realized with frustration that she couldn't read the number, "the doctors said we have to check out your leg so if you would just hop up there, "Cindy, Emma read just above her years of service, pointed to an examination table ridiculously large in the confined space. Things had just gotten worse.

Emma averted her eyes while Cindy removed the bandages visibly shrinking away when the nurse gasped at what lie beneath. Everything about the moment made only worked to cinch the vulnerability that had been lingering since Will had left. There was nothing dignified about sitting on an exam table in a paper gown while a stranger stared at her body, shocked after eleven years in the profession at the damage she had wreaked upon herself.

Her face grew warmer and Emma fought desperately against the urge to cry relieved when a new set of bandages were in place squishing as she hopped down, the ointment smearing against her sweatpants as she pulled them on. Cindy patted her gently on the knee whispering that she would be okay but it wasn't the comfort the older nurse thought it would be, it just made her feel ashamed.

Stepping out into the dining room Emma caught site of Will's retreating form, fighting to hold at bay the rising numbing panic that always hit her when she was left at a hospital. It was like her mind was acknowledging where she was but protecting her from the true implications all at once.

"I think this is yours."

A warm voice rescued Emma from her contradictory sensations. Just behind her was a middle-aged woman with brown, straight shoulder-length hair swept neatly away from her face. Her eyes were intense, alluring and ambiguous. Noticeable right away was her apparent refusal to accept the trademark ensemble declaring one couldn't function in normal society and suddenly Emma felt self-conscious in sweatpants. Her table mate wasn't dressed to the nines by any means but she was presentable, the dark blue jeans and red long-sleeved top spoke of professionalism among amateurs. Nothing about her was intimidating like it should have been. If she viewed herself as better than any of the other patients Emma couldn't tell.

Smiling, Emma let her feet weave a path to the small round table purposefully dragging one hand across the backs of chairs imagining herself in a movie as the lead role being forced into a situation they couldn't avoid. Her savior in blue jeans had pulled her from the immediately unpleasant and plunked her right in the middle of the soon to be unpleasant if the hospital dishes holding her gaze were any indication.

"I'm Sophia," the woman offered, her voice soothing and calm, a port in the storm of Emma's mind.

Ignoring the comment for the moment Emma's eyes came to rest glumly on her name, typed for the second time with a set of misplaced letters above it as she sat down.

"Emma," reaching across the table Emma offered her hand the gesture just seeming appropriate.

If she wasn't so acutely aware of where they were the woman before her could have convinced her they had just sealed a business transaction with no effort once so ever. It was an odd combination, her being so reserved yet pleasantly friendly at the same time.

"Eating disorder, obviously" Emma shrugged raising her eyebrows at the surroundings while she began the information transfer narrowing her eyes at one insulated bowl wishing she had x-ray vision not wanting to touch it to find out what was inside.

"Obviously indeed, you're a twig."

Emma caught the traces of a friendly smile indicating the comment was amiable. Part of her endeavored to let it slide without an intense round of cognitive war fare but that part rarely won.

"I'm not a twig. Other girls here are skinnier than me" Emma admitted as though ashamed.

"Right," Sophia clung to the dipthong, "because that means absolutely everything."

Their conversation continued, occasionally interrupted by Mealtime Support Staff mingling between the chairs, lingering for seconds too long as they took notes or stopped to ask questions if someone wasn't eating. Emma hadn't intended to eat but watching Sophia carefully taking small bites prompted her to do the same. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad, just one meal. After all every once in a while she missed just eating and not caring about fat or calories. With every bite the voice screamed at her to stop but Sophia's gentle, unassuming talk helped her to ignore it.

Just like the psychiatric ward no one got to leave. Unlike the psychiatric ward they got the benefit of attending a group session on self-esteem. Arguing with herself over how to handle the upcoming situation Emma realized that Sophie had never once offered her story or prompted for hers. The woman had just shattered another hospital constant replacing Emma's simple curiosity with respect for her nonconformity.

Finding herself in another circle of six women on a sparsely carpeted floor Emma had every inclination of passing when her turn came to speak. They were going around the room introducing themselves and saying how the recent meal made them feel about. It seemed pointless. She knew how the meal made her feel.

"Ma'am?"

Glancing up Emma found the leader's eyes on hers. Sophia was seated on her left. Emma didn't have to turn her head she could feel the other woman's gaze boring into her. She could also picture the no nonsense look and imagine the conversation that would take place if she didn't speak, all of which she wanted to avoid.

As she started to talk Emma told herself she wouldn't go in-depth. All she had to do was say enough to be labeled as a participant.

"I'm Emma and I guess eating made me feel…disgusting, fat," A few heads nodded at her confession in understanding," and lazy. I can feel it sitting in my stomach. I just want to claw it out. It's ruining all of my hard work and I feel like a bad anorexic, like I have no will power."

Emma's stopped abruptly surprised and slightly bothered by how easy it had been for her to move past her first sentence to include things she had never intended to. She had to admit it wasn't an unwelcome experience, sharing her feelings. In a way hearing everyone talk about them and how they were being subjected to the same hell was uplifting and made it seem like maybe she wasn't so out of place.

They left with an assignment to write down ten things they were afraid to do, what was stopping them from trying and ten things they would do if they weren't afraid. The fear didn't have to be related to the eating disorder but Emma had a feeling it would all come full circle. Even if there outwardly didn't appear to be a connection it would be there, lurking on the inside.

By the end of the day she had another assignment; writing a confession of sorts of things she couldn't bring herself to say out loud with a catch. At the end of the day she was supposed to read them out loud to someone as part of an exercise she hadn't been told the point of yet. It was written, folded in her pocket and when Will walked in the door to take her home Emma decided that was where it was going to stay.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Doing laundry was a chore Will didn't mind and as he measured the detergent his mind wandered. In order to have clean clothes he had to wish them. It had a purpose, it was a means to an end; phrases Will had been tossing around in his mind all day as he had forced himself to conjugate verbs through a lunch period devoid of conversation, devoid of Emma. He had purposefully avoided passing by her office but the precaution didn't prevent him from dwelling on things he couldn't change.

Will cursed as he watched a pair of Emma's jeans begin to grow damp in the rising water. He had forgotten to check the pockets. It wasn't like her to leave anything in them, usually he was the culprit but he decided to look just in case.

Shoving his hand into the right, front pocket he felt slightly soggy paper. Quickly he pulled the jeans all the way out not caring that he flung water everywhere intent only on salvaging something he hoped wasn't important. Emma's handwriting drew his eye to the upper, left margin.

Normally her writing was flawless even when she wrote something in seconds but he could barely tell this was Emma's. It looked hurried, flustered, like she hadn't been able to move her hand fast enough to keep up with her thoughts. The pressure wasn't steady in her usual fashion, there were sections where she began lifting the pen up seemingly before she finished the word and she hadn't bothered to correct spelling errors and what was more odd was once she had reached six errors she hadn't started a new page. That alone told Will whatever he was about to read was something she desperately wanted to be absolved of.

Closing the dryer lid Will hopped up, his feet dangling over the edge and began to read.

_I can't even say I thought I would have a handle on this by now. I believed I would have a handle on my OCD. I really believed that, but this, I didn't even see this for what it was until I had the label._

_I'm standing toe to toe with it now. Toe to toe with disorder. My whole life revolves around disorder. The only difference is the environment the word calls home, how they change the meaning._

_Obsessive Compulsive Disorder_

_Eating Disorder_

_Bipolar Disorder Type II_

_One that projects itself onto my body, one that alters chemicals in my brain, one that leaves me terrified of the world around me, three that have left me standing on the edge of this existence l have now, looking over my shoulder for the ordered life I can't remember but know I had._

_One he doesn't know about. I'm the only one who knows about that particular disorder._

_The eating disorder doesn't make me happy, not really. Underneath it all, buried within the talk of feeling successful and in control is the truth that I don't want to admit even to myself. It shouldn't matter, but revealing that would make me feel like a failure, more of one than I feel like now. I won't say it aloud but I'll write it down. _

_I hate this._

_I want to wake up in the morning and not have my first thought be about food. I want to know what it's like to have a bad day for a "real" reason and not because I ate too much the day before. _

_I think I used to look in the mirror and not be disgusted by what I saw. I think maybe I used to eat without worrying about calories, without being yelled at, without a self-hatred so severe it makes me want to curl up into a ball and cry. _

_Sometimes all I want to do is give up. I'm doing this assignment but who knows what that means. I probably won't ever read it to him. _

_At what age in your life are you allowed to look back with nothing but regret? Is thirty-two too young? I guess if I were to say I believed I would have a handle on anything by now it would be life._

_I'm just so tired._

"Will?" The sound of real-life Emma replaced the Emma in his head and he looked up to find her standing in the doorway shifting her weight nervously.

He had been caught but he wasn't really at fault. All he had done was clean out her pockets. Carefully he slid off the dryer stepping lightly across the room with the paper still held gently in his hand.

Before he could speak tears began to form in her eyes and she slid down the wall crumbling into the ball he had pictured her in when he read the note. Blindly she reached out for him latching into his pant leg, pulling down, one choked sob breaking free. Will lowered himself to the ground next to her not saying anything when she wrapped her arms around him almost violently, breathing harshly against his neck, her breath hot against his cooled skin.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I ate today, I ate." She repeated as those she was working to convince herself, " I had breakfast and lunch and dinner and I even had a yogurt cup and while I was there I told myself it was okay, that I was doing the right thing and I believed that Will. I believed it. But as soon as I got home it went away and now I hate myself. I'm sick of this. I'm sick of being trapped on a never-ending roller coaster that can't decide if it wants to let me off or go around again. I don't want recovery to be like this, another tug of war between these two parts of me that-I want to be normal!" Her voice was almost a yell. Will hushed her softly relieved when she calmed slightly.

"I want to give you a family, to be a mother, to play with our child in a dirty sandbox and not care…and I don't know what to say anymore other than, I'm tired. I'm tired." Emma repeated lazily, the words slurred together and weak.

The moment she had mentioned a family it had taken all Will had not to hug her tighter. He let his head rest against the doorframe, his eyes closed while he imagined them having a child trying to keep at bay all of the what ifs he and Sue had discussed, all of the worst-case scenarios he had read.

"We'll have those things someday sweetie, we just have to get through this first okay? One step at a time and I know you're tired Emma. I'm tired, "he admitted softly.

Emma didn't overreact to his unexpected confession the way he had feared but instead snuggled closer against him repeating that she would complete the program, get through this, find a support group, anything so she could give them a family her voice dying out after she softly promised her mother she would have the grandchild she always wanted.

* * *

A/N: Let me know what you think please!


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: My weekend cleared up a bit. My updates are probably going to be shorter but I'm hoping to get them posted faster. Happy Easter everyone...or spring break, whichever.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

The weigh ins Emma feared were always going to be difficult. She kept her eyes closed while she changed into the gown the same way she kept her eyes closed in the shower using a loofa instead of her hands not for sanitary reasons but because she didn't want to risk finding bones that used to be more prevalent. Tangible, irresistible, disconcerting evidence that she was inching closer and closer to that normal weight mark, a daunting prospect even if it was on the low end of her average weight range.

She detested the word average. It seemed to fly in the face of everything she had worked so hard for, all of the time and effort she had put into being above average. Average was the way she described her endeavors in other areas of her life if she could admit that she wasn't a dismal failure at them. Emma didn't want her weight to be average. They needed to change their terminology.

Most of her clothes were new. Even the pre-eating disorder clothes were tainted with the disorder or memories of hospitals and her mothers' death. After Will had found her wielding a pair of pants by the leg slinging them against the bedroom floor screaming that it wasn't fair that she had to gain weight while the rest of the world chatted excitedly about swimsuits and fad diets he had delicately suggested throwing the slacks away. In the heat of the moment she had agreed allowing him to bag her "skinny" clothes while she had been at Rivergroves and set them out with the trash. She hadn't been able to sleep that night. That was the third time she had found herself digging through the trash at the mercy of the voice the other clothes hauled away the next morning. For better or for worse the slacks now resided in the far corner of a dresser drawer more proof that weight gain wasn't all the public eye thought it was in the scheme of eating disorder recovery.

The second time had been after a birthday celebration on the ward where everyone had been presented with either a slice of chocolate or vanilla cake depending on their preference. Rules had slowly been closing in and she had only been allotted fifteen minutes to finish the piece the staff somewhat sympathetically claiming that the time limit was for their own benefit, that they needed to re-learn how to eat at a normal pace.

That day had proven to be a disaster. On the way home she had convinced Will to stop by Godfather's a task that hadn't been anything other than as simple as saying she wanted to go. In their first session together Dr. Wicker had talked with Will about the importance of letting her try new things within reason. As far as Will had been concerned, and there had been trace amounts, a trip to Godfather's was within some form of reason.

She hadn't had pizza since the episode with Will and Shannon. Before she walked in Emma had known what was going to happen. Will had stayed in the car keeping it warm in the uncharacteristically chilled air. If he had seen the small smile on her face he would have intervened. Even she had been able to detect the glossed over look. From the time she had stepped out of the car to the very minute she got back in everything was a blur of purposefully misdirected eyes. She hadn't wanted to look at anyone, to see their disgust at the sight of her with a medium hamburger pizza. Ordering was always made worse by the eating disorder even if she was getting something safe. All she could imagine was what they were thinking and she always imagined the worst.

That night had been almost an exact repeat of the trip to Godfather's with her mother with the exception of the cookie incident.

The next day Emma had felt horrible and despite her conviction of the opposite the night before she had divulged her escapade to Dr. Wicker, something that had turned out to be the best thing she could have done. The man had assured her that slip ups were going to happen, that it didn't mean she had fallen off the wagon and that all she had to do was climb back on board and start again.

Brief reprieves from her constant food anxiety had been appearing now and again. Such a fleeting glimpse of what her life could be like but it was enough to push her forward and she had climbed back on with the help of Sophia's account of her own repeated setbacks in her ongoing recovery from Bulimia.

Sophia was the epitome of success to Emma in the world of the unit and it was the confirmation on the part of her friend that at one point she had been where Emma was with her own struggle that had kept her on track after another birthday party in the same week.

It had been two weeks and much of Sophia's past still remained a mystery to Emma. She had learned pieces here and there during group exercises; she was Cuban, originally from Miami, had an intense love and respect for her heritage always evident by the glint in her eyes when she made a passing joke about her culture or gave a crash course in Cuban history usually centered on the political system of the past, present and future. Emma adored those comments and found herself going out of her way to point out her own cultural oddities. Sophia's wide-eyed, astonished, dumb-founded look when she had mentioned barrel racing with tractors had rivaled Will's. It was refreshing to talk about her home-life and oddly therapeutic in its own right.

The next obstacle had come in the form of a phone call from her dad two days after her first day. Everything she had feared about not knowing what to say came true intensified by a deep sense of shame at the déjà vu that had swept over her, the memories of similar phone calls buried in her past. She couldn't remember anything her dad had told her. She did remember her angry words to Will that night while they had tried to watch a movie accusing him of betraying her trust. His hurt expression and polarized stance he had taken to defend himself had been her downfall and she had ended up apologizing all over herself appalled at how insensitive she had just been, her anger turned inward because she hadn't realized how she had sounded until after the damage had been done. Will had assured her there was no damage, no hard feelings and he had forgiven her just like he always did leaving her saddled with embarrassment over how much she had taken him for granted over the course of their relationship, or more accurately, over the course of her disorder.

The third obstacle was something she wasn't sure if she was going to discuss with Dr. Wicker or not. Knowledge she wasn't sure she was torn between wanting to keep and forcing back on her brother.

Practiced motions only waylaid pulled her from her reverie as Emma reached into her pocket producing a Clorox wipe. Six times she cleaned the handle to the door that would lead to the main room. Six counter-clockwise circles accompanied by six whispered numbers followed by one adamant refusal to think about how a week ago she had only counted to three.

"Holy Chickarina," Sophia called out as Emma entered the dining room for breakfast. There was something different in the way she let the nick name fall from her lips, like she was distracted. Slowly Emma curled up in the chair, her arms wrapped around her knees wondering how to go about extracting whatever was bothering her secretive friend without causing offense. Sophia saved her the hassle.

"You know that list, the one that was ten things you would do if you weren't afraid?" Emma nodded and Sophia continued, "I did it…but I couldn't read it. Did you read yours?"

Emma sighed, she hadn't even done the list and the assignment she had completed hadn't been intended for Will. Everything regarding her diagnosis as Bipolar had come to light that night. It was her first stint on a psych ward that had garnered her that diagnosis. In high school she hadn't cared much about it but when she gotten to college, taken an Abnormal Psychology class and realized that it was the result of something fundamentally wrong with her brain she had carefully closed that chapter of her life. When they had taken her off meds their intention had been to put her back on but she had never gone back. Many times she preferred being hypomanic to having a level affective state. At least then she was productive, felt she could do anything and had boundless energy. It was during these times she often did things undeniably out of character for her like perform Touch-a Touch Me with Will in a science room or act flirtatious at work. Those representations weren't her and yet they were. She still couldn't separate them. She would look back and cringe wondering what had come over her without really having any reason to wonder. How she had squeaked by without being put back on meds was evidence to her of the inherent flaws every system has and in a way she wasn't looking forward to her new prescription taking away her moments of productivity even if it would lessen the severity of the depressive periods. Will had learned all of that the night he read the note. She had told him everything never once looking him in the eye, too ashamed for lying to begin with.

In all the times she had played out the scenario she had never imagined him being so calm about it. While she had gulped water after a solid hour of crying and sobbing her way through the truth he had quietly and gently told her that he had suspected something else was going on for a while, that her moods had been all over the place and she hadn't been able to sit still. Emma never understood how she could never see these things until someone provided clarity by pointing them out. It was frustrating and it made her worry about what she was presenting to the rest of the world. Was it her or was it the disorder? She never knew but it was becoming evident that everyone else did.

"I didn't do it honestly. I thought about writing down that if I wasn't afraid I would make a list of things I would do if I wasn't afraid." She laughed hoping to lift her friend's somber spirits.

"There are so many things I want to tell her Emma. So many things that I have kept bottled up for years. I have an impulsive side you know but stopping me dead every time is fear, the fear that I might jeopardize this fine, delicate balance I have achieved. I have everything I could ever want right in front of me and I can't get it. I'm too afraid." Sophia's head was down, her eyes searching the tray that had just been placed in front of her.

"It sounds to me like you need to read your list." Emma prompted certain she was going to meet resistance.

"Yeah, maybe, I have to prove to myself I have the guts to read it to anyone before I could ever begin to think of sharing it with her. It's so personal, revealing…" She trailed off lifting the lid off of a small stack of medium-sized blueberry pancakes that made Emma smile remembering Will's hair.

"I think if it's personal that means you did it right and hey, you got farther than me."

"Some of these are silly, some, obviously, are not." Waiting until she was done chewing her first bite of pancake Sophia began to read from a paper that appeared like it could fall apart at any moment it had been folded so many times. Emma could imagine the tears that might have gone graced the surface.

"I would take a real risk. Not a calculated risk," Sophia clarified, "not the kind of risk that I've weighed and analyzed ad nauseum. I'm talking about the real spur of the moment 'to hell with everything, follow your heart' kind of risk."

The instant connection Emma had felt as soon as Sophia had begun to talk distracted her from the anxiety and fear over the small spoonful of cereal she was placing in her mouth.

Sophia fidgeted, obviously nervous about her next confession.

"I would tell my best friend that I am undeniably in love with her and that I have been for the last five years, and then, I would prove to her that I could make her happy, be the kind of person she would want to spend the rest of her life with. I would get a Ph.D. and do something incredibly intellectual and fascinating." Emma laughed at the Indian accent Sophia had adopted for her academic goal wondering why she chose the accent she did.

Grinning Sophia dropped back into her regular voice, "I would be a hippe for a while, all bohemian and free-spirited. I would travel the world meeting all sorts of people, living as they do for a while and I would write about it. I would go from place to place and eventually I would find my way back home with a passport full of stamps." Her melancholy deliverance told Emma that to Sophia traveling the world was the equivalent to her auditioning for a musical; something she had firmly told herself she would do but never had and eventually gave up on all together.

Again the woman looked tentative, "I would live completely out of the closet not caring what anyone thought or said, maybe even get married." Sophia paused with an embarrassed laugh, "I would drive a really fast sports car, and get in a drag race and do donuts in the street. I would openly flirt with someone."

"Preferably your best friend," Emma supplied eager to deter the woman's nerves about the subject.

Sophia nodded tilting her head downward to re-locate her spot on the crinkled page, "I would go wakeboarding and surfing, while I'm at it, I would go snowboarding too. I would do a striptease for someone and attempt to overthrow the Cuban government."

Emma couldn't contain her laughter, "Wait, you would do a strip tease for someone and somehow overthrow Cuban government in the process. You must be really talented if you can do that _and _bring a country's entire political system to its knees."

"No! They're separate see," Sophia practically shoved the paper into Emma's field of vision emphatically pointing out that the two endeavors were indeed written on different lines. Not waiting for a response Sophia continued and Emma thought about how the list had surpassed ten a while back.

"I would openly confront a few people and put them in their place and finally, a separate finally let me specify to avoid confusion about how I treat my enemies, I would get up on stage and sing a love song to someone."

"Preferably your best friend," Emma deadpanned causing Sophia to smile and admit she already knew what song she would choose.

Standing up to deposit her tray Emma noticed that she had eaten everything, the first meal she could remember since sitting on the hay bale with Will where she hadn't had to listen to the voice.

Emma saved the thank you portion of her speech for herself deciding not to deflect from Sophia's list and told the woman that she was glad she had let her hear what she had written adding that she wanted to hear more about her friend. Obviously without thinking Sophia launched into a detail explanation her voice higher in pitch betraying just how deeply she cared for her.

"She's beautiful Emma. Tall, slender, graceful, she almost seems to float above the ground, makes me feel like a klutz. She's intelligent too, got her Masters in International Relations right after she got her Bachelor's. That's why I'm going back to school. Someone told me that couples tend to match up based on level of education. I only have a Bachelor's and I want every advantage I can get." Sophia smiled slightly leaving it as plain as day to Emma that something had happened to derail her college career, probably the same thing that had derailed hers, the thing that had landed them both here.

"I wish I knew how she felt about me. She knows I have a vested interest in women. Yes, I worded it that way. I'm surprisingly literate when I'm angry. I don't even remember what we were arguing about. It wasn't even a true fight, we never really fight. She's just amazing." Sophia laughed, "I love how I can be literate when I'm ready to annihilate the world but I can't put two sentences together when I talk about her. She accepts me for who I 's never judged me. She was the one who brought me here. My mom doesn't like to visit and really I'm okay with that, between you and me it's awkward as hell to have your mom visit you on an Eating Disorder Unit but Chaaya visits every other day. You missed her yesterday. She stopped by while you were in an appointment." Emma was about to cut in when Sophia's eyes widened.

"You won't believe the stuff we talk about! Sometimes it's hard discussing the things we do when I feel so strongly for her but I'd do anything just to be able to sit next to her, in the same room even. I could be sitting in a dark room and be heaven for eternity even if all I could hear was her voice."

Emma reluctantly put the conversation on hold when a familiar nurse appeared behind her with medications and a request to follow her for a therapy session with Dr. Wicker. Waving good-bye to Sophia, Emma followed Cindy down a short hallway and into another room that seemed to be an afterthought.

"Emma good morning," Dr. Wicker smiled brightly, "I see you are making friends. As is my mode of operandum I'm going to-"

"Jump right in, "Emma finished with a chuckle.

"You know me so well. Emma, I understand your mother passed away in October and that your father recently contacted you about a sale he was having for some medical bills. How was that for you, that conversation?"

It had been her father who had initially called but he had been replaced by her brother when a neighbor had come around about getting help with some loose cattle. A switch Emma wished had never taken place.

"It was my brother who talked to me and he…I wish it hadn't been him. He was so blunt and kept describing things to me. I was okay until he mentioned her books." Emma looked directly at the man a few feet away, "She loved those books and I guess they were just lined up along the fence line in the backyard. I'm glad I didn't see that but I feel like I did. I can imagine it, the books, crammed into boxes, their pages blowing dejectedly in the wind like maybe they were waiting for someone to read them, one last chance to tell their story."

Dr. Wicker's brow creased for a second before he spoke.

"You know when my dad died and it happened quickly, he died one day and we were cleaning out his apartment the next, it hadn't hit me yet when we were in the place. Looking back now I can see that I was still in shock, the one advantage to things happening so hurriedly I suppose. It was hard but it wasn't because he didn't place any importance on his stuff and wouldn't have thought twice about getting rid of it. I had to swallow my pride and admit that I couldn't bring myself to go through his clothes. I boxed up the stuff in my brother's room instead." He paused rubbing his chin with his finger his eyes fixed on nothing above Emma's left shoulder.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's normal for this to hurt like it does. It's only affecting you like this because she assigned value to things. You're mom died back in October Emma, that's a long time to think and analyze. I don't know her but I bet she'd like her books being purchased by people who will actually them as opposed to them just sitting in a box not read by anyone. Think of it as passing on a little piece of your mom's love for books to someone else."

Emma could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. He was right, at the time she hadn't been able to see it that way but he was right. Her mom would love it if even one of her books became cherished by another.

"They're not people," Emma declared unsure why she was revealing something to this man that she had barely contemplated herself.

"Explain that, why aren't they people? Who aren't people?" Dr. Wicker questioned softly.

"How many people walked by looking only for a bargain? Everyone, none of it means anything to them. It's not their memories being carted away. It wasn't supposed to be mine either, "She whispered to no one, "This can't be my life. This is so horribly wrong and no matter what I do it won't go away. I can't escape this portion of my reality, not indefinitely, not completely." Emma stopped to wipe away the tears that were no longer just a threat.

"It's her stuff just sitting out there waiting for those vultures to come pluck it up. That's what they are to me; vultures, ruthless predators picking up her stuff, my stuff, walking away with it, planning where they are going to eat lunch as they steal a piece of my life, a piece of my past, a piece of her."

"I can imagine it like I had been there. Walking around the place seeing furniture I grew up with being loaded into people's trucks, their expressions as they see me walk by whispering to others that I'm the daughter, the looks of sympathy and sadness. It's like I was there really." Emma finished quietly.

"They are people Emma, they just don't have-"Emma stood up forcefully pushing her chair back as she yelled.

"I goddamn know they are just people and that they are only looking for cheap stuff! Everyone loves a good deal but this isn't cheap stuff, this is mine, hers, and I want them out of my life! I want the pieces of my life that they now possess out of their living rooms and kitchens and I know that is selfish but its mine damnit! I'm sorry," Emma glanced up shocked by the venom in her voice.

"There's no rulebook to what you are and are not allowed to feel. Anything you feel is justified Emma and what you are going through right now is to be expected but trust me it will get better and one day you will be able to look back and smile at anecdotes you remember her telling or advice she gave. You'll get through this," He stayed calm despite her tense posture.

"Who do you think you are creating such elaborate scenarios? Do you wish you had been there?"

"No, yes… I don't know okay! I don't know if I would want to watch all of that or if I would leave before it started…I don't know. Can we talk about something else now?"

"We're out of time I'm afraid, actually we went over time but this was good Emma, you're opening up and that's good." Dr. Wicker grinned telling her she could take a few minutes to pull herself together before she left.

* * *

Up until today the assignments for her Nutrition group therapy had bordered on fun. Definitely not stressful as she had originally envisioned when she had first heard the name.

Creating a fake meal plan for a week in a way had fed into the parts of the disorder that were left behind, the ones that lingered until they found her just long enough to whisper a problem into existence. Producing a list of food she never had to touch helped to lesson her compulsive need to think about dietary matters but Emma had a feeling the point of the exercise wasn't to take satisfaction in doing something food related without the actual act of consumption.

The first couple nights she had tried to leave Will out of the process until the idea of having to choose even imaginary food for herself had left her overcome with anxiety that had traversed dangerously close to a panic attack. It had been Will's idea to try something he had seen his mother do one of the rare times she had been on a diet. They had poked their way through his and her mother's recipes Emma laughing heartily at his expression over some of her family's more unique dishes. Three hours later contained safely within a handmade, wooden recipe box that had been a gift to her mother from her first landlord was a cluster of index cards with numerous food items so all they had to do was pull one out saving her from having to actually decide on a meal while still affording ever important variety. Choosing what to "cook" for dinner had become a sort of game to them played over his coffee and her tea in the mornings before they left. Those things Emma felt she could handle because they were just that; a game. As she followed Will to the car that game was on the fast track to upping the stakes. The spaghetti she had laughed about this morning into her mug of peppermint tea wasn't funny anymore.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"So, how was your day?" Will kept his eyes on the road during his standard question having long since gotten over the awkwardness of asking courtesy of honest curiosity.

"It was okay."

_Translation: She's worried about something. Translation: That something is not okay._

"And the part that wasn't?" He asked aiming for nonchalant and for once succeeding.

"The part that hasn't happened yet, the part I'm not sure I want to happen, the one where I have to fix a meal," Emma half-whispered.

"Not you, us. I won't do it for you but we'll do it together okay? Besides, my mom can vouch that it's impossible to keep me out of the kitchen when there is food around. She would also embarrass me by telling stories of my blueberry muffin batter robbery escapades and the shamelessly transparent lies I thought were ingenious. On second thought, don't ask my mom, take my word for it. I can't resist food." He laughed to himself knowing a certain phone call was now inevitable.

They pulled into the driveway in silence Emma entranced seemingly with nothing just outside the passenger window chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Will didn't wait around heading inside as soon as he locked his door knowing today would be no different in regards to her routine and his inability to address it.

Will continued acting normally his hope buoyed by the lack of anti-septic wipes when she stepped through the front door then crushed when Emma bit her bottom lip nervously and pivoted checking the lock once. He had learned her compulsions almost always started with one the same way they almost always ended with six if allowed the chance. While watching her enter the hospital one morning he had found, to his dismay, that the set of six could be repeated.

"Okay, Will kept his tone chipper as Emma made her way over, " if memory serves, and considering my superior hippocampus I'm sure it does, we are making spaghetti."

Emma's amused smile kept him going, "What?" I know I got it right. I remember, ironically, that pneumonic your professor taught you. The student will always remember the day a hippo came to campus." Will raised his eyebrows for effect rewarded with Emma's laugh growing slightly skeptical of his unverified knowledge under her continuing gaze.

"I'm impressed," Emma grinned and headed for the kitchen her expression anxious before she crossed the threshold.

They continued exchanging jokes through the gathering of the ingredients, past Emma's explanation of a special Tupperware container that measured out exactly one serving of spaghetti at a time that had been her mothers, their humor pushed through everything leaving anxiety on the sidelines until Emma lost her grip on a can of tomato sauce Will, keeping stock still as it crept across the floor thankful that by some small miracle none had splattered onto her slowly devised a course of action.

"Paper towels, I'll go get some paper towels." He said quietly. "Relax Emma, just breathe."

Her movements were rigid as she grasped at the fabric unraveling far more than was necessary clearly afraid to come into contact with the thick substance.

Carefully he began dabbing at the farthest reaching portion while she started at the center. It took fifteen minutes and over a half a roll of paper towels before the floor was devoid of red. Will stood imparting that he would be right back after putting the roll away and that they had another can of tomato sauce privately elated at her symptom free moment.

He came to a troubled halt just inside the entryway his elation mocking him from within whispered numbers while Emma's mind forced her body to steal her progress. Her knuckles were white around the tattered remains that spoke of overuse sweeping endlessly in circles across linoleum that glimmered in the light.

Slowly he knelt beside her shifting his weight so his back was supported by the fridge, elbows on raised knees, hands clasped lightly at the wrist, eyes trained downward; closed.

"I've read that the OCD symptoms get worse when someone is stressed, "Pausing he listened for something other than disorder.

"They've been getting worse for a while now Emma. In fact, I don't think the passenger side door has ever been so clean let alone disinfected twelve times a day." He kept his talk unassuming, his breathing almost rhythmic between words that revealed the magnitude of his one person case study.

"It used to be twice. Once when I dropped you off, once when I picked you up but now it's twelve. Six both times." With no hurry he raised his head finding her panicked eyes, "Talk to me Emma please."

Emma started to cry but he stayed where he was relying upon Dan's words from his appointment earlier in the week that it was important to let her work through things on her own, come to him only if she wanted to. His heart ached for her as she ran her fingers through tousled red hair. It wasn't fair that something he would have considered a minor inconvenience was apocalyptic in scope to her.

"I'm trading one for the other, "Emma choked, "Why the hell can't I just get over something for once in my life? Why does it always have to come back or replace itself with something else?"

Emma dropped her head opening her eyes in the span of a heartbeat, training them on his, "It's my fault. I'm the one too screwed up to deal with anything normally. I'm the run who goes running back. I don't even realize it Will, not until I'm checking and then I can't stop. A lot of people think that OCD is just being obsessive about something what they don't realize is the compulsion, that undeniable urge, must be there and it's always there for me and I never deny it."

"Maybe you should talk with someone at Rivergroves. I read they specialize in OCD treatment as well due to its high prevalence with eating disorders. " Sometimes Will wondered if his speaking of her conditions so bluntly made her uncomfortable.

More than anything he longed to be able to tell her what to do, how to ignore her thoughts. Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder wasn't a complete mystery it mirrored eating disorders enough in mindset that he could figure some things out but he wasn't trained and honestly anymore he felt safer having her seek out help from a professional. There was only so much he could do by way of support.

When he suggested the other can of tomato sauce Emma stiffened the same reaction she gave every time he mentioned meal options. Deciding he would accept the consequences later he jumped up startling her.

"Come on, up. We're going out. Let's just get out of here for a while." He offered his hand smiling in victory when Emma sniffled but didn't shy away from the idea.

"Will there be food?"

Will knew that was the million dollar question. It wasn't often he was one hundred percent certain on the answer to something so weighted.

"Only if you want some. Now, come on, go get cleaned up and we'll drive downtown, see what looks interesting. No plans, no pressure, optional food," he reminded.

Will exchanged his work clothes for a pair of jeans and a McKinley high t-shirt that had been a gift from the kids after sectionals allotting Emma fifteen minutes before his anger over what the eating disorder was still capable of doing to her won out.

He knocked once on the bedroom door pushing it open to reveal a defeated Emma in a bra and underwear held captive by her reflection guarded by piles of discarded clothes.

Will crossed the room coming to a stop behind her pressing his palms against her warm body expecting the flinch, the attempt to get away.

As he had been warned Emma had become increasingly self-conscious about her body when he would touch her whether it was intimate or not. The night she had demanded he order a pizza it got severe enough she had refused to sleep in the bed careful prodding uncovering that she was terrified she would wake up with his arms around her.

A method Dan had suggested, a mild form of Exposure Therapy he had called it, was why he was leaving his hands on her waist now, running them along her torso, letting one splay across her stomach while he rested his chin on her shoulder.

Emma drew in a ragged breath through her nose whining softly in discomfort trying to pull away avoiding her reflection and the sight of his hand simultaneously by positioning her head over her left shoulder, eyes squeezed shut.

"Nope, he spoke softly against her neck, "you're stuck pretty lady. Open your eyes Em. Look."

Cautiously she listened finding their reflection with her peripheral vision for no more than a second. It was a start.

"I know you can't see it but the woman in that mirror is everything. She's strong, gorgeous and amazes me every day at how hard she works to get her life back from things that have controlled her for so long." Will ran his hands over her shoulder blades an area he often caught her checking with a grimace, "And the changes to her body that she thinks are disgusting only add to that beauty. Whatever she wears tonight will take my breath away."

Emma relaxed under his continued caresses her stance no longer poised to flee. With a deep breath she opened her eyes, faced her fear.

"See," he left a small kiss on her shoulder in question.

"No."

"You will, someday," he assured.

He couldn't resist the urge to kiss her turning her body to face him bringing his lips to hers while one hand came up to cup her cheek. The kiss deepened out of mutual agreement and his hands roamed over her arms, down her back, purposefully across her stomach.

Leaning forward he placed a kiss against the more pronounced swell of her breasts glad she was no longer wearing sports bras as he moved to deposit a kiss along smooth cotton. Emma tensed so he moved back to her mouth, his tongue dueling with hers until she calmed again before he reluctantly pulled away breathlessly mentioning that she should get dressed not going further because he wanted her to be the one to initiate.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The drive downtown was pleasant, care-free as Emma sang along to the radio her thoughts occasionally shifting from vocal technique she would have never considered had it not been for Will's influence and the memory of his hands on her body, how her skin seemed to run ten degrees warmer wherever they had been.

A couple weeks ago she would still be nervous about what had happened, second-guessing his intentions. The therapy was helping and not only had she attempted to see what he saw she had for the moment convinced herself of his sincerity. Her foray into third person perspective had failed, nothing but a fat woman had stared back at her but she had tried. She would have to re-convince herself about Will's feelings next time but at least she wanted a next time.

Idly she watched a young couple stroll hand in hand into a bar wondering what it would be like to get drunk with will not sure if she ever would, Rivergroves policy saving her from tackling the scenario tonight.

"There will be a someday for that too."

Emma glanced over finding an easy smile and twinkling eyes.

"I bet you would be an adorable drunk." His grin grew belying that he was imagining just that.

"Dad says I'm goofy. Twenty-first birthday, not my idea." She answered before he asked, "That's the only time. I'm too afraid I would lose control, become addicted to having lowered inhibitions, become an alcoholic. I don't need any more problems."

Will nodded in agreement saying that getting drunk with her boyfriend just once wouldn't make her into an alcoholic but that if it did he would drive her to AA meetings. Emma giggled at his dramatics after she slapped him on the shoulder.

Her stomach growling killed the mood. Will didn't hear over the radio but the radio made no difference to her. She had felt it. The proof that her body was learning to expect food at certain times reminding her that she had passed that time. Hunger pains hadn't taken long to set in and they scared her igniting another war between one side that wanted them to stop, terrified not eating would push her back into the disorder and the opposing faction that wanted just that.

"I'm hungry, "Emma blurted before either side could start to negotiate her downfall.

"Okay, yeah, me too." Will laughed at her outburst lessening her distress somewhat.

"Where do you want to go?"

Recently a group leader had begun trying to get her to tackle her indecisiveness, specifically, around food. Following the woman's advice Emma jumped to say the first thing that came to mind hoping that what the lady had promised, that she would become more comfortable with the process and eventually be able to devote more time to it, was true.

"There." Emma pointed to the bar they were now passing for the third time. The same one the young couple had entered.

Will covered his shock admirably pulling into a parking spot a few buildings away, an endearing habit of his to leave the closer ones for people he considered more deserving. Emma had once commented that he was probably just paving the way for the proverbial Joe Blow who drove ten minutes for the nearest slot despite being perfectly capable of geographic mobility only to receive a rant on how ridiculous Will thought the behavior was. Emma didn't say anything as she got out of the car.

A wall of music rivaling the one at the line dance in Virginia greeted them at the door. Will reflexively fell into step as they crossed the bar weaving towards the booths in the back Emma matching his strides unaware due to the chaos in her mind. Her thoughts swirled violently from studies about people eating more in noise-polluted environments and Cocktail Party Phenomenon to desperately maintaining that no one cared enough about her to stare.

Sliding into the seat in a decidedly boyish manner Will yelled over the music about the indecency of ordering a coke in a bar going out of his way to not draw attention to the menu she was scrutinizing with some trepidation.

She had watched his face contort in regret during a session where Dr. Wicker had advised him not to allude to any disordered behavior in anyway even by way of saying she would be alright. He had advised to make meal times as normal as possible and while Emma did appreciate the increased conversation she missed his assurances something he apparently noticed bypassing the rule occasionally to slip one in.

"You can do this. It's just food. Enjoy the night out with him. You can do this." Emma recycled Dr. Wickers' advice as well producing her own words of encouragement as a substitute for his.

She repeated her mantra through her default order of a cheeseburger and a salad longing to grab the napkin inches from her hand and dab away some of the grease the way other people might. Other people were just that; other.

The music provided a distraction, the booming rhythms and bass causing her heart rate to pick up, a physiological reaction almost every person fell prey to bringing about the certain kind of exhilaration only loud music could provide.

She had finished her meal ten seconds ago. Ten minutes after Will had taken his last bite. Emma wanted to ask him to dance but the music wasn't able to cut through her need to remove herself from her current situation as quickly as possible. The smells of fast food and alcohol combined with the sigt of chicken wings, gems and unfortunate reminders of the meal she had just consumed were becoming too much to handle.

Walking after stressful meals was now a staple for her when she wasn't at Rivergroves, one Will usually accompanied her for. He had been honest from the start admitting that he wasn't comfortable with her going off on her own after eating. His mistrust had given away to a simple enjoyment over the last week and they often spent the time laughing and talking about the idea of a dog, a new concept for them both to share in the open having previously existed only in their mind. As it was, their internet browser history was riddled with websites devoted to hobby kennels with American Kennel Club registered, show-quality Chesapeake Bay Retrievers. He had been adamant that he was not against mixed breeds bending over backwards to prove his point by detailing to her the guideline's of the AKC's most recent program Canine Partners which allowed for the registration and entry of mixed breed dogs in performance events barring conformation. Saying that she was nervous about the dog and the messes it would bring was an understatement and the recent increase in her OCD had cooled Will on the topic a bit something she regretted deeply.

Emma waited just outside the door blushing when Will paused mid-step to look her up and down. She had decided on her current ensemble relatively easily after his intervention in the bedroom that had simultaneously made her beyond uncomfortable and more confident. A dark blue pair of flared jeans rested against her skin accented by a purple tank top with a dark brown jacket thrown over the top for two reasons; she didn't want to show off that much of her body and she was still often chilled due to her weight.

Will side-stepped allowing the couple they had seen enter an hour ago exit with a distracted apology. Emma's brow furrowed in confusion when he looked up and grinned grabbing her by the elbow and gently nudging her a few feet to her right.

He smiled again and began to sing softly under his breath the glint in his eyes showing he didn't care if anyone heard. "But look at you tonight, so beautiful under these neon lights, yeah. Who needs lovers' lane right—I don't remember the rest," he admitted sheepishly.

"It's some song the kids have been singing. Apparently that guy you like so much from Glee is coming out with an album." He murmured the answer she had been on the verge of requesting ensuring she forgot her newfound excitement over the record she hadn't known about with a tender kiss.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts?


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: I wasn't intending on posting this, in fact I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with it so please let me know what you think. It sort of became an obsession. I wasn't getting anything else done so here you are. Hopefully now I can get what I need to get done, done.

Sorry for any errors.

* * *

**Ch. 33**

**Emma's POV**

A tired smile materialized on Emma's lips as she leaned against the doorway to the kitchen having found the culprit behind the chill that had replaced both warm arms and the alarm clock barely minutes ago.

Lying sprawled out on his back as much as the octagon-shaped exercise pen that dominated the kitchen floor would allow was Will. His head was resting on a balled up lambskin pad, one arm firmly holding a slumbering puppy to his chest, both rising and falling in time with his steady breaths.

"Will," Emma whispered tiptoeing over, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the pen.

"Will," bending over at the waist Emma grimaced when the top of the gate touched her stomach reminding her of everything she had eaten yesterday, "Hey, wake up."

Tearing a page from her father's book for early morning wake up calls Emma gave up trying to wake him and made coffee instead knowing his nose rivaled that of his canine bed partner in the caffeine department. Quietly she went about preparing her tea in the process allowing the scent of peppermint to lead her thoughts astray as she contemplated the man who was proving to be a pretty flimsy stick in the mud when it came to pleading, amber eyes and high-pitched whines.

If someone would have asked, Emma would have said with absolute certainty that she had seen every side of Will. If someone were to have then shown her the middle-aged man she had met yesterday, the one who had been reduced to care-free laughter under the onslaught of puppy breath for hours on end, she would have barely recognized him.

Before they had gotten the puppy home he had nabbed a name. Will had been tossing them around for weeks never revealing to Emma what he was thinking other than the importance he placed on a dog having a name as quickly as possible for training reasons. The two he had decided upon and the sentiment behind them still left her feeling emotional.

For the past month she had been constantly listening to the _Spring Awakening _soundtrack drawn in by its haunting sounds and poetic lyrics. In one of her impulsive moods she had purchased the entire album on iTunes having no idea what the story line was. When she had realized that someone died in the play and that the song _Left Behind _seemed to chronicle that death she had been overcome with an overwhelming urge to sing the song to her mother as sort of a tribute. From what she had gathered through the snippets of dialogue left in the soundtrack a character known as Moritz committed suicide. She didn't know anything about him but she identified with him. His mind convinced him of his inadequacies the ways hers had done with her. That was how Moritz got his call name as Will had referred to it. When she had questioned him about his odd choice he had said it was to continue a theme he had started with the registered name.

Will hadn't seen the musical either but he was rightfully as familiar with the songs as she was. They had been on her top twenty-five most played not two weeks after she had first synced her iPod. Moritz' registered name was _Imzadi's And Who Can Say What We Are?_ A tribute to _Spring Awakening, _his love of Star Trek and her all in one. Imzadi meant "my heart" in an alien language she couldn't remember the name of. The rest of the name, he had explained, that although not the intended premise was a passage in a song that reminded him of her. Of how her eating disorder tried to tell her who she was. He wanted the name to be a reminder that anyone or anything could try and tell her what she was but that only she could decide what to embrace, discard or believe.

Moritz had been in their life for all of twenty-four hours, the result of days on end of serious discussions regarding her Mysophobia, OCD and a puppy. Finally she had put her foot down, roughly pushing aside all her fears about soggy carpets, drool and loose fur determined to give Will something in return for everything he had given and sacrificed for her. It had proven one-hundred percent worth it when he had deposited an almost- kiss on her cheek before scrambling for his phone eager to call a breeder he had been corresponding with online about the litter that was now eight weeks. He confessed later to having gone and looked at the puppies at six weeks and that he had tentatively had the breeder holding one for him, a male, the same male that was currently chasing something in his dreams with muffled woofs atop Will.

Watching him sit cross-legged in a play pen full of brown, curly-coated puppies so identical they wore-color coded collars as they had attempted to play King of the Hill, biting and pulling at each other just as much as his now ripped t-shirt while he melted and momentarily forgot he was capable of producing English mimicking the whines and yelps around him was a part of Will Emma hoped was never buried again.

The gurgling of the coffee maker lured her back into reality her eyes landing on the cupboard that still contained a canister of oatmeal she hadn't been able to throw away. It was a link she both cherished and feared and as she cautiously grabbed onto the handle Emma told herself she only wanted to see it, to feel the familiar weight of the canister in her hands.

As soon as the door was opened Emma lost the ability to thwart the procedural memories. A longing for touch became a desire for taste and the voice saying no was overridden with the one that screamed yes. Salvaging her forgotten measuring cup Emma poured the oats up to the half-way mark her attention lingering momentarily on the hash mark of Will's she had discovered so long ago. Flawlessly the oats transitioned from cup to bowl stragglers floating easily to the surface as she poured in once cup of cool water. The microwave door wasn't closed all the way almost like it was inviting her, welcoming the oatmeal, beckoning her exploration of the known. She watched intently as the bowl rotated eerily illuminating the space around where she knelt on the ground her chin resting on the counter, the smooth counter-clockwise circles reminding her of her OCD.

The ding rang through the air, invading the silence the steady hum of the microwave had just surrendered. Her anticipation grew leaving her feeling like one of Pavlov's dogs as she quickly latched onto the handle, swung the door open and produced the bowl. Emma stared in fascination wondering how it would taste after so long without. With practiced ease she fished in the drawer to her left for a long-handled spoon scooping three table spoons of sugar, stirring in circles that for the first time in weeks she didn't count. Slowly she raised the spoon to her mouth closing her lips gently over the utensil her taste buds rejoicing with the explosion of safety in her mouth. Just as quickly she became puzzled, the oatmeal leaving a bitter aftertaste, tasting wrong; sick. Frantically she searched for the brief paradise she had just been robbed of jamming the spoon into the remaining food and shoving it into her mouth crying out with a defeated sob when it didn't work. Even the smell was turning against her, reeking of her eating disorder and everything it had put her through. Part of her wanted to keep eating, to fall back into her routine the other part rallied for her to stop, to put the bowl down and walk away from the road it led to.

With a disgusted, strangled sound she hurtled the bowl across the room almost physically shaking with fury as it smashed into the bottom of the stove with a satisfying clang shattering into tiny slivers the second it came into contact with the linoleum, its contents splattering across the appliance, landing in gobs amongst pieces of porcelain that littered the floor. For a moment she felt better until she remembered that the bowl had come from her mother. The bowl that had been used as a standard cereal dish throughout her childhood had come to represent a hellish, exhausting section of her adult life. Silently she started to cry torn between anger over her outburst and the burning knowledge that she would never get the bowl back and the others like it had been sold on the sale certain that if it weren't for her mother's death she wouldn't be so bent out of shape over a dish.

"You disturbed my heater." Emma peered through the darkness in the direction of his voice not saying anything, not knowing how to explain herself.

"Since we are downsizing would you mind if I broke that embarrassing coffee mug my mother gave me last week. You know, the one that says the dog on the front 'wufs' me." Her eyes shut of their own accord, rebelling against the effects of his flipping the light switch above the dishwasher.

Carefully he knelt alongside with a broom and paper towels hushing the puppy who had started to whine softly, "Mind telling me what's going on here?"

"I just wanted to taste it but it wasn't right. It reminded me of being sick. I can't eat normal food without feeling sick and now the one thing that was supposed to make me feel okay about eating makes me feel sick too. This wasn't supposed to be so hard Will." She mumbled, the end of his name chopped off with a ragged inhale.

"I know sweetie. I know. It'll get easier Em. I promise." He kept his voice low and unassuming as the evidence of her temper tantrum bit by bit disappeared into the waste basket in wads of paper towels.

Recovery wasn't supposed to be so layered, so complex and emotional. The shredded remains of her fantasy of waking up and simply deciding she wanted to eat breakfast and leaving the disorder in the dust vanished in the trail a clump of oatmeal left as it slid down the fridge. Even within the midst of her desperation she was receiving no break.

The Mysophobia was demanding action ordering her to be the one to clean up her mess and not delegate it to him. The eating disorder was ensuring she stay where she was. At least for the moment they both cancelled out the OCD. Emma dropped her head into her hands barely fighting back a scream. She didn't want to be caught in the mine field that was her mind anymore. Every step accompanied by fierce concentration while she wondered which disorder might be waiting to explode in the face of her progress. She wanted to get to the other side, to be able to walk peacefully without fear.

Will carefully deposited the tiny shards into the trash can returning with a vacuum to make sure any remaining pieces were gotten before he turned Moritz loose the dog bounding up to her launching himself at her face his tongue darting out to lap at the tears that clung to her chin. Emma tensed pleading with the puppy to leave her alone. When she felt no further coats of slobber she slowly opened one eye to find him staring at her with a bright, jubilant expression. Tentatively she scratched him behind the ear smiling slightly when he cocked his head to the side the way Will did when he was confused.

"Looks like someone is making a friend." Emma peered up at Will from her spot on the floor grateful he wasn't carrying their earlier conversation any further.

"He's not so bad right now." She agreed, "He's kinda cute and his coat looks like your hair." Emma giggled half-heartedly when Will reinforced her observation titling his head the way Moritz had done seconds before.

"I told you he would grow on you." Will ignored her comment kneeling on the ground, calling the uncoordinated retriever over in a sing-song voice.

"Ow!"

Emma's giggle turned into a full-blown laugh as Will jumped up rubbing at his index finger leaving her to deduce it had been on the receiving end of a mouth full of razor-sharp puppy teeth.

"Serves you right. For leaving me in a cold bed," She scolded.

Will's eyes remained on Moritz but she could see his sheepish expression as he spoke. "I wasn't going to stay there. He was whining and—"

"Admit Will, you broke your own rule. You slept with him because you couldn't stand the thought of him out here all alone. What happened to getting him to work past his first night of separation anxiety with the aid of a radio and not a person so he wouldn't learn whining brought people running at all hours?" Emma teased ducking as he tried unsuccessfully to launch a stuffed cow at her.

Giving her dairy cows had become a regular occurrence ever since he had finally presented her with the Happy Meal toy he had gotten the weekend of Sectionals. Last week he had came home with a pair of fuzzy dairy cow slippers joking that for all the times dairy products had made her gag she could stick her feet in their mouth and do the same right back. Emma had been torn between laughing and grimacing but she wore them anyways. It made him happy and they were warm.

"I smell coffee, thank you." Will ignored her accusation reaching for his coffee mug instead.

"Quit avoiding the fact that you are a push over dog owner."

"Well, you see that works in your favor. If I'm a push over dog owner it means I'm a push over boyfriend so given the options I think you got a good deal."

Moritz whined sharply from his pen before Emma could come up with a response Will was out the door faster than she thought should have been possible.

The entire two hour trip back from Columbus had been nothing but training advice from him. Emma hadn't let on but she knew a bit about the learning curve and methods he had been attempting to describe. He had been so excited, his hands flying everywhere, proffering demonstrations that she had ignored in favor of the road that she hadn't had the heart to mention her Learning Psychology class. She had been familiar with every term he had thrown out; successive approximation, positive and negative reinforcement, positive and negative reinforcement, shaping and back-chaining, all of which meant nothing in the real world. He had practical knowledge born of the actual use of such methods. She had read chapters devoted to them in a book.

Emma checked the time. They had a little over two hours, more time than they usually had for the benefit of the puppy. Emma was no stranger to potential factors that could mess up her routine and an animal that just like humans was prey to unpredictable behavior was a major factor.

She looked up as the door slammed closed Will bouncing around on the balls of his feet telling the young retriever what a good dog he was for going potty, words she hadn't ever expected to hear come out of his mouth. He had defended his word choice declaring that it was what he had said to his Golden Retriever growing up and that if you took the time to say something professional sounding you actually felt more stupid if a person walked by because they all knew what you were waiting on. Emma still found it hilarious and had blushed her way through mumbling the phrase yesterday before bed Will by her side laughing just as hard at her as she had at him.

"Aren't you supposed to give him a treat?"

"Nope, I don't know what trainer started that. If we give him a treat when he comes in he will be more interested in that than going to the bathroom. Won't you bud?" Will ended his explanation staring Moritz in the face.

Emma resigned herself to stupid questions coming to the conclusion that book knowledge alone was neither going to shove the popular training myths she had heard over the years out of her head nor get her anywhere close to the level of expertise Will possessed.

Turning and walking into the kitchen Emma caught site of the recipe box remembering that in all the fuss over the puppy they hadn't picked out a lunch yet. She still relied on his method which they had discovered with some embarrassment had been coined by Richard Simmons but it worked. Her nutrition group leader was on her about choosing a meal or two a week without the index cards something Emma wasn't sure she was ready to tackle yet.

"What do you want for lunch?" Will asked stopping a few feet away, a wriggling mass of fur-covered energy barely contained in his arms.

Apparently Will thought differently on the matter.

"I don't know. Can't we just do the recipe thing?" She pleaded more with herself to listen to his request then for him to listen to hers.

"We've been doing that for a while now Em. We can't keep it up forever. Pretty soon we would be trying to cram an entire cookbook in there."

Emma stared at her feet feeling the familiar sensation of her world closing in as combinations of food forced their way into her mind. It often bugged her that she could recall meals in such detail. It seemed a cruel evolutionary trick for the eating disordered to obsess over food the way their starving ancestors would have. The body's mechanism for survival turned into a weapon against sanity that had driven her to things like stealing from the kitchen trash and spending a two-hour movie contemplating the gourmet meal shown while the beginning credits had flashed across the screen.

Her world of safe had expanded to include the recipe box shrinking only when something new was added. Surely if she could learn to accept those new items she could do this. Maybe she could just tweak the order a little. Reverse psychology on backwards logic.

"If I choose something can I make a card for it after, like right after, before we eat even?"

Will cocked his head the realization of just how important the process was to her slowly spreading across his features.

"Whatever works Em. What do you want?" Silently Emma thanked him for not drawing attention to her need for such ridiculous indulgences and self-consciously suggested the spaghetti that had yet to come to fruition after the incident with the sauce.

* * *

Standing at the door to the hospital Emma wanted to cry as she watched her cloth-covered hand wipe off the handle ignoring her every demand to stop. She had thought it was hell on the fringe but she had realized over the last few weeks that being caught in the middle was infinitely worse. Being caught in the middle was turning her mind into a battle field of ordered verses disordered; real verses imagined. For the past few weeks being caught in the middle had left her feeling like John Nash, clamoring for a grip on a reality tainted with delusions. Her reality was tainted with delusions too and she was searching for a way out just like he had been.

It had been a week since Will had confronted her in the kitchen about her returning OCD symptoms and they had only gotten worse. They were different this time, more intense but limited to certain things such as checking locks, light switches and windows. To Emma it seemed they were literally trying to make up for the sense of safety she felt she was losing more of every day she went to treatment. They always intensified around food which meant they were becoming quite severe on the ward and she knew it was only a matter of time before someone brought it up.

"Emma, follow me please." Emma smiled at Cindy her face neutral as she trailed behind the nurse for her morning weigh in.

The sounds of the scale were jarring and they taunted her with the knowledge they possessed. The same knowledge that Cindy's clipboard now held secret. Emma had been told her desire to know her weight would lesson with time but the only development she had been aware of was being torn between her two options. If she didn't know she could continue to delude herself into thinking she wasn't gaining that much but if she were to find out, well, then she would just know. She didn't really have a reason for that one. She just wanted it.

Emma eyed the examination table wearily. Cindy had just stripped the plastic cover off and replaced it with a new one smiling at her, waiting for her to hop up like she always did. Her morning was starting to go downhill because of a delusion. Emma imagined herself waving hi to Nash on her descent.

"Um, could you maybe disinfect it? I really don't feel comfortable sitting on that." _It's not infested with germs just sit down. Stop this before you get yourself in more trouble. Just sit._

Cindy frowned nodding slowly as she reached under the cupboard just behind her and produced a bottle of disinfectant. With more care than Emma assumed would be used Cindy sprayed it down and dried it off.

"There ya go, hun. Better?" Emma didn't miss the note of sympathy in the woman's voice. No wonder she had taken her time with the table. She knew she was operating against OCD not just a personality quirk. The benefit of eleven years on the job no doubt.

"Yes, thank you." Carefully Emma climbed up lying on her back concentrating on the feel of her stomach stretching across her hips instead of the nurse that was inspecting her leg.

* * *

Emma stared dejectedly at her blank piece of paper waiting for inspiration contemplating Will's phone call moments earlier dissecting the string of confessions she had imparted to Will wondering why she hadn't kept her mouth shut about lunch. She had spent the better part of the twenty minute phone call trying to explain that she wasn't falling back into the disorder. She was just having a hard time.

Sophia was gone today for reasons none of the patients she had asked seemed to know. Even that staff was concerned which told Emma the absence was not planned. The nurses had noticed how the two got along and her tray had been right where it usually was, with nothing next to it.

She hated trying to eat by herself. It was terrifying, the food in front of her blurring until she wasn't sure where her hands ended and the food began. She could never pace itself. After so long of disordered eating it was impossible to eat normally. She didn't remember how to eat normally.

Emma often felt like a child playing games with their parent. While she and Sophia talked over meals Emma would pay careful attention to how Sophia eat, how large her bites were, how many bites of one food item she took before moving on to another. Even drinking had been affected. For a long time Emma had avoided drinking at meals the liquid stretching her stomach to an uncomfortable extent. Sometimes even her eating disordered logic didn't make sense.

When she tried to eat normally it would feel like a binge especially when she had no one sitting with her for comparison. No matter what she did she felt disordered. If she tried to slow herself in her mind it only reinforced that she had an eating disorder because she was having to put so much effort into eating normally. If she ate fast she felt frantic and out of control, two key companions in all of her binges.

Will had once suggested watching TV before she had started treatment but she had only retorted that studies had shown people ate more in noise-polluted environments. She had tried to eat at the table but the silence had become too much and she had felt out of place not acting social like the rest of the world and it had seemed like the silence had only intensified her self-hatred. Finally Will had convinced her to sit in front of the TV but the sight of a young female star that was losing weight even though she didn't appear to have a disorder had stopped her in her tracks. Emma compared herself to others but often she could accept that she was skinnier than most. What she couldn't accept was watching someone working to lose weight while she sat on the couch and crammed food into her mouth.

Her meals with Sophia had become the first time she wasn't self-conscious about the entire eating process and right now Emma stared at a simple ham and cheese sandwich she desperately wished her friend was sitting beside her with words of distraction.

The sandwich remained mostly untouched throughout the allotted lunch time. Mealtime Support had noticed too late having been preoccupied with a twenty-year old who was throwing a fit that would impress a two-year old after finding out courtesy of the taste buds of an Anorexic that her tomato soup had been made with milk instead of water. Emma had crept to the back of the room during all the commotion trying to angle her tray so it would appear she had eaten more not wanting to deal with the look Cindy would throw at her. She had received a ten percent for food eaten and more than one look for trying to hide it.

Her paper still bore no words. Her last group had been on body image and her assignment due tomorrow was to write an essay articulating what she really meant when she said she felt fat. It was a phrase she tossed around in her mind and out loud all the time but it hadn't ever dawned on her that fat wasn't a feeling. They had even provided a guideline, specific questions to answer.

She wasn't a stranger to this exercise but it seemed to be fine considering her one. Everything she thought of writing seemed childish. Putting to rest her notions of grand wording Emma placed the tip of her pen against one line waiting for inspiration. With a sigh she abandoned that too and simply started to write.

_When I say I feel fat: _

_I am really feeling insecure and overwhelmed, unsure of my place in life, unsure of my life in general. I am feeling scared, worried that I am infringing upon someone else's space, that they are watching me behind my back, mocking my attempts to achieve anything while they wait for me to get out of their way. When I say I feel fat I am really feeling a deep-seeded shame for living because I feel inherently worthless sometimes for no reason at all. _

_When I say I want to be thin: _

_I'm saying that I want to be able to love myself, to feel good enough. I am looking for the self-esteem I've never had, the assurance that I'm doing something right, succeeding at something no matter how unhealthy it is. I'm saying I'm torn even though being thin is what I think I want. It means success on one hand; feeling accomplished, and failure on the other; being hopelessly trapped in a tiresome cycle._

_On my worst day looking into the mirror I see: _

_On my worst days looking in the mirror I see someone who has no future because they have no present. I see someone who is taking the love of a wonderful man and throwing it away. I see someone so messed up they will never amount to anything. _

_Right now I see: _

_Right now I see myself as a thirty-two year old woman who should have a family, kids and a husband. I see a woman who is working for those things but terrified of gaining them because to gain them she has to gain weight. I see a woman who is gaining that weight but unable to accept that she is doing the right thing because she still feels like she is giving up the one thing that made her successful. I see pain. I see frustration._

_I see glimmers of hope, visions of a life where the only tangible disorder is caused by something other than my own hands. _

_Right now, constantly, I see a woman still convinced that she will become the nothing she is so afraid of without her disorder._

_Right now, sometimes, when I catch my reflection in passing and I don't have time to study my body, I see a woman who has the potential to be attractive if she would just give herself the chance._

* * *

**Dan's POV**

Dan was checking his watch for the third time, this time, to make sure it was working when Will came barreling into his office breathlessly apologizing for being late mentioning that letting the dog out had taken longer than he had anticipated.

Normally Dan went out to greet his patients, something he had been taught as an Undergrad to make people feel a bit more at ease but when Will hadn't shown up right on the dot as he usually did he had retreated to his office to catch up on some paperwork. He was glad Will had come. Talking with the young Spanish teacher beat typing client notes any day.

Will was practically bouncing off the walls. The frustration Dan had watched slowly rising over the last couple weeks was spilling over into his body language, his leg tapping relentlessly to a chaotic song only he could hear.

Words were falling from his mouth as soon as he plopped onto the couch straightening the table in something of a game since Emma had been absent. Dan would purposefully make sure it was crooked before the man came in. It had been an accident at first. One morning while rushing out for his coffee he had clipped it with his knee. Will, his first client for the day, had been too shook up from taking Emma to the hospital to know where to start. His simple straightening of the table had been an ice breaker so on the off chance something might have happened that would land Will back in the place of nervous glances and abandoned sentences Dan kept the table crooked.

"What if she doesn't tell me if she starts to feel like not eating again? What if she goes behind my back? I'd like to think I'm pretty shrewd but she has fooled me before?" As soon as he started speaking Will calmed but only marginally. It was going to be a long session.

"From what you have been telling me she is eating. Why the sudden worry?"

"There is a woman she talks to on the ward during meals and she was gone today. Emma didn't each much of anything saying she needed the distraction of conversation and her OCD is worse, worse than I have ever seen it. She can barely walk through a door without cleaning the handle or checking the lock and sometimes she gets up during movies or even in the night to check them, and windows, she checks those too." Will sighed, I'm afraid that these two things, the eating disorder and the OCD are just playing musical chairs with her mind and that sooner or later the music driving the OCD will stop and the eating disorder will sit down." Will blinked, looking surprised at his analogy.

"I see," Dan acknowledged the man's answer to his question and moved on, "Does she stop at all doors."

He could feel the emotional fatigue pouring off of Will. The young man was exhausted and his body was compensating by kicking him into overdrive. Dan watched as his eyes widened, his brow knit in confusion.

"No, now that I think about it she only does it sometimes. Well, I mean she checks the car door every time we get home or are leaving for Rivergroves but the other night we went to a movie and she was fine." Will dropped his head into his hands with another heavy sigh.

"I don't know what to do anymore. I'm supposed to be the strong one and when she needs me the most I'm falling apart. She's getting better. Every day I can see little improvements. She's eating a variety of foods including dairy products and just this morning she chose lunch by herself instead of choosing by way of a recipe card. She's working so hard and I, "Will shook his head laughing bitterly, "and I feel like I'm drowning."

"Look at how long you have been doing this Will. You were her sole support system for most of your relationship and you have been bending over backwards for a while now to help her. You've done more on your own then I've seen parents do. That says a lot about your determination but it also says a lot about why you feel this way. Some of that pressure has been removed. She has other people to turn and that's allowing you to realize just how heavy that load was. This is normal and we will work past it. You're human Will."

"Unfortunately, " Will's monotone voice was muffled by his hands.

"Unfortunately? What would you rather be?"

"At the moment, Vulcan. I could use some impeccable logic in my life." Will raised his head slowly as though he had a headache.

Dan's heart went out to Will. He had been doing so much that he hadn't taken any time for himself. His body was reaching a burn-out point. If it weren't for his wanting to address some of the more serious things that had been alluded to just a few minutes ago he would change the subject to something a little less emotionally taxing. Perhaps he could do both.

"And that has nothing to do with some hidden desire to run around in pointy ears?"

His jibe at Will's Star Trek obsession was rewarded with a weak laugh and an even weaker smile.

"Maybe a little," Will admitted with a blush.

Dan had a theory about Emma's checking behavior. He wasn't trained in either of the issues she was dealing with but he had done enough research via a the databases for the American Psychological Association that he felt fairly confident. He just needed some information first.

"When she checks a door, is she going into a situation where there is or will be unavoidable food?"

Will studied the ceiling his mouth moving with silent words. Within seconds Will had pressed himself back even further into the cushion behind him his mouth dropping open as understanding dawned.

"It's because of the food. Why didn't I see that? When we get home the first thing we do is fix a meal. The first thing that happens after being weighed at Rivergroves is breakfast. We didn't eat at the movie theatre…It's because of the food" Will repeated softly with a mixture of relief and exasperation.

"How does someone function in a world afraid of things that are everywhere?" He asked simply, not entirely focused on his question Dan was sure.

"I think you are seeing first hand that they don't."

Dan resisted the urge to sigh when a trace of panic flashed across the face of the man across from him. His mind was speeding along at ninety miles an hour, turning on him in a much more acceptable fashion than Emma's was doing to her.

"What if she stops talking? She's been opening up about things so well but, well, you know what they say about good things.

"Do you tell her every little thing that is wrong with you? Dan kept his tone conversational knowing the question could sound more like an accusation with the wrong inflection.

"No," Will knew the angle he was getting at, "having a sore throat is not a life or death situation, not eating is. It's different." He said forcibly.

"Yes it is but to her it's not. To her the disorder is like that pesky twenty-four bug that decides to linger for a week or give way to another infection that says for a month. Pretty soon that bug becomes a normal part of your life and you stop complaining about your nose being plugged up or your throat being dry. The eating disorder has been such a part of her for so long it just is something she had to put up with. That's why it's so important we keep her talking. As long as she is talking about it she can't be pushing it to the back of her mind."

Will was staring to fidget again, his leg resuming its rhythmic tattoo against the carpet. They needed a lighter subject before he ended up peeling the man off the ceiling.

"What about that dog? You get that fancy name picked out?"

Dan listened as Will explained his reasoning behind the puppy's name laughing when he got his own personal performance of how the registered sounded in the song remembering their first conversation that had been heavily steeped in talk of performing music.

"It sounds like you're really curious about this. Why don't you just look up the story online or watch the songs on YouTube. That site has everything. I'm sure they're up."

"That's the weird thing. Normally I would and by normally I mean even despite the fact that she asked me not to saying that it had such a profound impact on her that she wanted me to see it live but," Will paused like he was considering his words, "I guess I'm hesitant to take something that must be pretty powerful considering how it has affected her in regards to her mother's death and taint it with someone's crappy YouTube video. She told me one night that she had imagined herself sitting in her room in Virginia singing some of the songs to her mother. I'm not embarrassed to say that I cried when she revealed that, the depth of the pain she is experiencing… I seriously considered figuring out a way for her to go down there but after the sale…her dad still has the place. It's sitting empty. I couldn't subject her to that. No one needs to see their childhood home abandoned. On a whim I checked online and found tickets for the Broadway tour but it was sold out. It would seem disrespectful of both her and the musical to watch it online I guess, if that makes any sense." Dan chuckled at Will's grimace.

"You know when I first started coming here I convinced myself it was for her but after that I'm starting to wonder." He could see the embarrassment creeping over the younger man's cheeks.

Dan maintained that everyone could use a little therapy now and again and that those who remained steadfast in their mantra of not needing it probably needed it more than those who actively sought it. Everyone had something they just wanted to be able to talk about at some point in their life.

"I think it sounds like a good date night." Dan supplied motioning to the clock to drawing Will's attention to the hour that had slipped by almost unnoticed by both of them.

"I'm not trained to handle OCD but maybe point it out to her. That her symptoms get worse around food. Be cautious when you do. We don't want her to feel like we are spying on her every move."

"She knows we watch her." Dan didn't respond to Will's comment recognizing that it was directed inward and not at him.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Moritz was the picture of puppy joy as he bounced back and forth from him to Emma making their evening after dinner walk more than slightly difficult. Dinner had gone surprisingly well considering the dramatics the morning had afforded and Emma was acting normally if he discounted the occasional brush of her hand against her stomach while she pretended to be staring off into the distance.

"Alright guy, that's enough." He put his foot down chastising himself for moving more than two feet without making use of the treats he had brought.

Moritz was only eight weeks old but it was the perfect time for getting the behavior of Heel down. Puppies inherently stuck around, their innate fear of strange environments ensuring that for a few weeks at least they stayed close to home. Early on Will had learned the art of carrying on a conversation and working with a dog. He talked with Emma about how the rest of her day had gone every once and a while producing a tiny sliver of a Beggin' Strip from his pocket when Moritz happened to walk calmly to his left. It was working and soon the dog was excitedly plodding along beside him waiting for the treats that were still being readily dispensed.

"Glee is going to be on in six minutes Will!" Emma whined into his ear as they slowly made their way back to the apartment stopping every time Moritz momentarily reverted back to his problematic weaving and lunging.

"You and that show, alright, but if he never learns how to heel it's your fault." He teased asking what the sitcom was going to be bombarding him with tonight.

Emma always knew what the episodes were going to be about actually paying attention to the advertisement that was always tacked on at the end. He liked the show and despite being completely unrealistic it had endeared itself to him. What he liked more was watching Emma's dopey grin every time it came on, how she would barely be able to sit still so curious about what the songs were going to be. He had stopped her from checking into that. He enjoyed being surprised by the music as well.

"There's going to be a wedding. I wonder if they will show the proposal. I hope the guy gets down on one knee." Emma started to say something else but he cut her off.

"I promise to get down on one knee." He blurted mentally kicking himself for his lack of finesse.

Using a sitcom as a segway while walking an unruly puppy around town was not the way he had envisioned bringing up the topic of marriage.

Emma halted whirling on him emotions he couldn't name dancing in her eyes, "You want to get married?"

"Someday, yes." He answered softly then cautiously, "Do you?"

Emma nodded her shriek of surprise music to his ears when Moritz played Disney Dog zooming in circles around their legs, trapping them with his leash.

"We should wait. We've waited this long. My mom would have wanted that." Emma's voice trailed off leaving Will buried in conflicting thoughts.

"Wait for what," he asked tentatively.

"To…you know," Emma whispered the last two words her eyes wide with emphasis. "We should wait until after we are married."

Will smiled at her modesty kissing her in lieu of the sentiments he couldn't find not caring that Moritz was still stealing scenes from every dog movie produced. Their bodies were pressed together, if either tried to pull away they would both fall over. He ran one hand through her hair reveling in its silky texture. Leaning his forehead against hers he teasingly whispered, "Glee started four minutes ago."

"I don't care." Emma kept her eyes on his as they unraveled themselves and began to stroll leisurely in the direction of the apartment their fingers intertwined at their sides.

"Moritz is attempting to run the Iditarod." She pointed to the taught, red leash that connected him to the now wheezing retriever.

"I don't care." Will wrapped his arm around Emma's waist pulling her close as he allowed Moritz to lead them homeward.

* * *

A/N: Okay, what do you think? Reivews make my day!


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: A lot of explanations in this one. Let me know what you think please. Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews over the last chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

**Emma's POV**

Emma let her fork crash against her plate, the clang reverberating throughout the kitchen, her eyes flickering from the fork that rested in Will's hand to his half-cleaned plate trying to piece together an elusive puzzle of behaviors.

"How do you do that? How do you just eat?" Emma motioned with a flurry of disorganized gestures to their vastly different plates.

She had been watching him mindlessly chew his way through their Sunday evening meal of sandwiches, potato chips and cherry tomatoes for twenty minutes while her plate remained largely undisturbed. Some days she had no problems with the process but other days, like today, she could feel the indescribable sensation throughout her body that always meant she wasn't in control. Emma wanted nothing more than to devour the food in front of her. The issue being if she did she wouldn't want to stop. She thought of it as a pseudo version of Binge Eating Disorder that delighted in inserting itself into her life despite her objections.

Other days, like yesterday, it was almost impossible to even be in the same room as food the fear and anxiety would be so strong. Emma missed the days when her reaction to food was reliable, when the paranoia and delusional thoughts of osmotic fat transfer were the only things she had to worry about.

Complicating everything was that on those days when food seemed something better left alone oatmeal always sounded wonderful and safe. More importantly when the anxiety was causing even the decision to use the recipe box difficult, it sounded easy. After her outburst a week ago that had resulted in there being one less dish to wash Will had thrown her once safe food away. For the first time in a year Emma didn't have any oatmeal in the house. A development that was causing some ill effects. It was not uncommon for him to find her pacing the kitchen in tight, never-ending circles unsure of what to do without the staple she had come to rely on when even a banana seemed too formidable to tackle.

Once she would finally force herself to eat the banana she would still end up pacing the thought of eating a bowl of oatmeal to right her transgression relentless in its attack. That was perhaps one of the more key pieces of evidence pointing to how entrenched she was in the mindset of an eating disorder. The disorder that demanded she not eat would tell her to eat a bowl of oatmeal to nullify whatever she had just consumed. The cognitive dissonance was nauseating.

Her perception of hunger pains changed with her mood as well. When she was afraid to eat the hunger was welcome, invigorating and comforting. When she could barely stop eating the hunger translated into danger and impulsive possibilities. Emma was well aware these two things were the exact opposite to what a normal person would experience. Hunger cues and what they meant to her were still very tied into the disorder. Ironic when she thought about the fact that as soon as she ate she felt she didn't have a disorder anymore, that she no longer fit the criteria and no matter how illogical it was if someone were to ask if she had an eating disorder she would say no. In the face of everything so very clearly still wrong, she would say no because she felt fat. Everything came back to still being sick but only that one aspect of feeling disgusting mattered.

She watched impatiently as Will stopped chewing his lips pursed in concentration, the upward, right-angled set of his eyes showing that the question she couldn't answer for herself was just as difficult for him.

"A student stopped me after Spanish class once and asked me how to sing a held note because no matter how hard they tried they couldn't do it. I couldn't answer her at first I was so stumped by the simplicity of the question. Finally, I was able to tell her some breathing exercises and I think she got the idea but I haven't gotten over that. The more I thought about her question the more confused I got. I couldn't separate out how I normally sang from how an inexperienced vocalist might sing enough to find her answer. The behavior is so second nature to me that it no longer has individual parts. It just is. I guess," Will paused for a sip of water, "that is my round-about way of saying I can't give you an answer to that. It took me weeks before I could hold a sustained note without analyzing my technique and it was hell, to the point that I would dread every tied whole note I came across because it was so mentally exhausting to sing it. I was thinking about it too much. Maybe that's what's going on with the eating, you're thinking too much. Stop worrying and trying to figure out a technique or if you are doing it right, maybe, I don't know." Will finished softly more to his glass of water than to her.

"I can't just eat!" Her hand flew to her mouth too late to stop her emotionally charged declaration.

"Yes you can Emma" Will counter-acted," I've seen it. Seconds here and there where you weren't thinking, like the hay bale" He admitted quietly.

"That was different."

"No Em, it wasn't. The environment helped, I don't doubt that, but the rest was all you. I fell in love with you all over again that night. The way you smiled and laughed like you didn't have a care in the world. Nothing else outside of that one moment existed. I know that somewhere underneath all of this crap that person is still there. Everything you felt that night, you could have that again, every day. "His voice held the promise of hope her mind seemed bent on destroying.

Emma stayed quiet for a moment remembering just how wonderful that night in Virginia had been. The way her hair had blown about her face tangled from the wind, his mouth on hers as she had sat on her knees and kissed him. How glorious the sun had felt beating down upon her as he had kissed her back.

"Maybe I should talk with Kristen." Emma poked at her plate, stabbing a tomato.

"I don't think it could hurt. I think it would be a good idea. I'm not trained in this stuff and I don't want to end up doing something that will only make things worse." He clarified.

"You couldn't ever make things worse Will."

"Yes I could. Words," he paused looking apprehensive, "are a dangerous thing with eating disorders. I don't want to say the wrong thing."

Emma nodded in defeat and understanding. More times than she could remember she had twisted his words and thrown their mangled remains back in his face digging around until she located even the vaguest shred of proof that he might mean the opposite of what he said.

Slowly she raised the tomato to her mouth hoping it wouldn't be the switch that would start a binge-like episode wondering what it would be like to accept everything he told her at face value without dissecting it until even she couldn't recognize the true meaning anymore. One more problem she had built up over the course of a lifetime. One more thing she hoped wouldn't take another thirty years to tear down.

"Would you want to do something on Monday, after I get back that is?" Emma questioned lightly proud of herself for taking the initiative.

"Oh, I can't. I promised Shannon I would go to this Football coach appreciation dinner in some town a couple hours away. She's coming to pick me up. I was going to mention it last night but I forgot. Em, you are going to be alone for the evening, on your own for food. Unless," he backtracked, "you want to go."

Emma declined his offer not relishing the idea of eating around so many strangers. She felt stupid for assuming he didn't have any plans something Will picked up on assuring her that they could do something the next night. She was still embarrassed at how forward she had been.

* * *

Eager to diffuse the self-imposed awkwardness that coursed through the small room Emma took a page from Dr. Wicker's book and jumped right in.

"Will found this quote online." Emma produced a piece of notebook paper from her pocket the crinkling disturbing the early morning Monday silence that had enveloped the room in the absence of pointless jokes.

"I don't think it works for me though. I like it. I wish it worked." She rambled on attempting to make up for Will's absence with words.

This was the first appointment Emma had ever been at without Will. The circumstances were different. She was sitting in one of the many rooms that littered the floor of the eating disorder unit, nerves her only companion as Kristen smiled at her.

"What's it about? Read it." Kristen's eyes flickered to the paper held captive in her hand.

"It's about normal eating." Emma cleared her throat her anxiety refusing to leave as she began to read, "Normal eating is going to the table hungry and eating until you are satisfied. It is being able to choose food you like and eat it and truly get enough of it-not just stop eating because you think you should. Normal eating is being able to give some thought to your food selection so you get nutritious food. Normal eating is giving yourself permission to eat sometimes because you are happy, sad or bored, or just because it feels good. Normal eating is eating three meals a day, or four or five, or it can be choosing to munch along the way. It is leaving some cookies on the plate because you know you can have some again tomorrow or eating more now because they taste so wonderful. Normal eating is overeating at times, feeling stuffed and uncomfortable. And it can be undereating at times and wishing you had more. Normal eating is trusting your body to make up for your mistakes in eating. Normal eating takes up some of your time and attention but keeps its place as only one important area of your life. In short, normal eating is flexible. It varies in response to your hunger, your schedule, your proximity to food and feelings." Emma took a shallow breath, "This is impossible if you don't interpret hunger cues right."

"Wow, what a novel idea! Eating when you feel like it." Kristen joked widening her eyes, over-emphasizing her words, "What's the problem?"

Emma wanted to scream in frustration that the answer should be obvious, "Sometimes, most of the time, I just don't feel hungry and getting something to eat seems pointless but I know I'm supposed to eat. Intuitive eating is nice in theory but not in practice."

Kristen calmly explained that Emma had learned to ignore her body's requests for food. She didn't agree. She could feel hunger it was just that she usually wanted to keep the feeling once she had it. Somewhere in the back of her mind Emma realized that was probably the definition of ignoring her body's cues.

"I haven't wanted to eat all day." Emma cut into Kristen's explanation of the Keys' Starvation Study, "If I were a normal person I could just skip a meal but I'm not normal and I can't do that…not even when I'm recovered. I'll never be normal."

Removing her glasses Kristen scooted forward on the couch making Emma the focal point of her attention. "Do you believe you will recover?"

She had been avoiding that question. If she were honest telling herself she could eat that sandwich or that bowl of cereal because someday she could lose the weight again probably wasn't the healthiest choice but if she resigned herself to the weight she was already gaining and thought about how it would only increase she would become paralyzed with fear.

"I don't know." Emma decided to try honesty, "What if I wake up one morning and the question that pops into my head every day, the one that asks what the hell I am doing, what if I can't ignore it one day?" Do you think I will recover?" Emma asked quietly, cautiously.

"Yes. I know you will." Kristen replied not missing a beat sounding like she had just imparted the simplest thing in the world.

"You're supposed to say that. It's your job." Emma retorted with a high degree of skepticism.

Kristen's entire demeanor changed as she forcefully told Emma she didn't believe in lying, that she wouldn't be any help to any of her clients if she did. Counteracting, Emma pointed out that she had tried recovery once before and had only fallen farther. She wasn't sure how to react when Kristen told her that what had happened had been exactly what she had been expecting because Emma was there for Will and not herself. Sometimes Emma still felt like she was doing this for Will. It was easier than letting the decision rest on her shoulders even if that's where it really was.

They talked for a while about Sophia's continued absence and the effect it was having on her ability to eat during the day. Kristen tried to tell her she couldn't rely on another person but Emma waved her off adamant that she needed her friend's conversation. She asked if Kristen knew why she was gone but the dietician only shook her head sadly.

"I don't remember how to eat. I don't even remember how to shop." Emma cried out with some desperation thinking of yesterday morning with Will and his musical analogy.

A few days ago she had wanted peanut butter and honey for the sandwiches her mother used to make her as a child. As she had strolled through the automatic doors she had felt every bit capable and confident but as soon as they closed behind her she had wanted to leave.

Will had watched silently as she had painstakingly checked the calories on every brand of creamy peanut butter there was muttering under her breath at the ridiculous counts as she did so. It had taken her fifteen minutes to decide on a jar, an off-brand that had ten less calories than the name ones. She hadn't noticed the curious stares of other shoppers or the nervous way Will had shifted under their blatant scrutiny. The only thing on her mind had been calories and the absurdity of purchasing peanut butter. The honey had been simple, a trip down memory lane as her fingers had closed around the plastic bear thankfully devoid of nutrition facts.

Eating the sandwich had been an uphill battle as well. The voice had thought it was entertaining to tell her over and over how fat she was getting. Will had quietly mentioned that it would get easier especially when she got to the shopping portion of the Rivergroves program. She had longed to be offended but deep down she had prayed he was right. She wanted to walk in and walk out just like everyone else.

"I would be happy to go shopping with you Emma. Just you and me, that way you won't feel nervous about saying something makes you scared and I can show you what kind of stuff to get. I know it's hard." For a moment it appeared Kristen was going to reach out and place her hand on her knee before a thought deflected the motion.

"Do you do this with all your patients?" Emma inquired cautiously strangely open to the idea of shopping without Will.

"Only some, but I'm afraid our time is up. I have you scheduled for next week. Keep working at this okay. You can do this. I have faith in you." She smiled gathering her bags and heading out the door leaving Emma alone with her thoughts and the echo of supportive words.

* * *

They left at six in the evening an hour away from when she was supposed to eat her third meal of the day. Shannon had fumbled her way through giving her the gift she had intended to present when they had eaten at Godfathers. The woman had tripped all over herself mentioning that she had seen it and thought about how she had noticed Emma eating the same thing for lunch so often stammering when she went on to clarify that she knew that it was the disorder she had been witnessing now. Thankfully no one had asked how she was doing. Asking how someone was doing, to Emma, was something that was said when a person was recovering from a surgery not an eating disorder.

The cookbook was plaid on the cover, six hundred and twenty seven pages of food. Wearily she watched it from her perch on the couch biting her lip while she tried to figure out what to eat. In a moment of reassurance for the other woman she had said she would use the book tonight. At the time she had managed to believe that she would be able to handle such a decision. Now she wasn't so sure.

Emma vaguely remembered a couple times her mother had thrown together a stir-fry on short notice when they were pressed for time. It shouldn't matter but she didn't want to be eating after the hour of seven. It would throw things off, make it less than four hours until she went to bed and her metabolism slowed.

With the caution of a scared dog she crept across the room approaching the cookbook as if it would bite her. Nothing grand happened when she laid her hand on the cover or flipped to a random page. She had been expecting some sort of physical shock.

What came as a shock were the ingredients. One stir fry called for two tablespoons of peanut butter. Before she could stop it the calorie count flashed through her mind. She flipped the page only to find an inordinate amount of butter used with the next recipe. Emma was growing frustrated, desperately turning pages so fast she was surprised they remained in one piece. Nothing was safe. Every page held a threat. She jumped up whimpering slightly at the argument in her head.

_Just fix something. It's no big deal. Yes it is, look at that. Peanut buter? Margirin? Do you really want to eat that? _

"No, no," Emma whispered. "I don't want to do this. Shut up, just shut up. Leave me alone. I need to eat."

_You don't need to eat that._

Abandoning the book Emma began pacing in slow, even circles counting under her breath while she tried to convince herself that cooking could be fun, that she could listen to music while the food prepared.

_The same music you listened to when you used to weight ninety-two pounds? Great choice._

"Okay, fine! You win! You win!" Emma yelled snatching her keys from the counter as she passed by tearing out the door and down the stairs.

A blind panic consumed her as she threw the car into reverse. Emma was not a reckless driver but as she peeled down the street she ran a red light without noticing, oblivious to the annoyed honks around her, her mind focused on one thing.

"I'll eat. I'm going to eat. That's the important thing." Her mantra stayed on repeat as she pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot not bothering to straighten her wheels before she jumped out barely remembering her purse.

As soon as she stepped inside she balked. The lights that hadn't bothered her in a while were overwhelmingly intense. People milled about everywhere carrying food items that just then she felt she would never touch in a million years. Rapidly her eyes scanned the signs zoning in on one she made a beeline through packed carts and screaming children.

She watched her feet as she walked, her shoulders hunched over, physically trying to disappear from the crowds of people she knew had to be watching her, making fun of her, laughing.

When her hand finally closed around the oatmeal canister she didn't feel the relief the voice promised her she would. She froze, the can in mid-air, halfway between her and the shelf as if it couldn't decide where it wanted to call home. It wasn't until she noticed a middle-aged woman regarding her curiously that she was able to move.

She didn't remember the drive back home or the trip to the apartment where she had cradled the oats to her like a child terrified someone would see her with them for reasons she couldn't identify. Once inside she raced to the kitchen coming to a halt as a feeling of blessed calm finally enveloped her. She had oatmeal. Everything was fine.

With a renewed sense of patience she carefully measured the oats and water into the Pyrex cup and then the bowl placing it in the microwave with a small smile. Moritz came running when the ding having learned from Will that pieces of hot pockets could result from the tone on occasion. Emma glowered at the dog both threatened and relieved by his presence. Having someone watch her, even a dog, felt like a violation of her privacy.

She couldn't take the first bite. The spoon sat loosely atop the oats not yet pushed down into the mixture that was sitting on the table before her. Emma curled up in a kitchen chair shooting the food withering looks as she waged another battle with herself.

Every time the voice told her to eat it she declined yelling back that she was trying to recover. The voice would only tell her to give it up. Finally, disgusted and exhausted from the mental work Emma pushed her chair from the table grabbing the dish so fast the spoon flew across the kitchen clattering across the floor behind her.

"Moritz, Moritz come!" Emma called in the song-song voice Will had finally gotten her to use.

The dog was by her side in an instant watching her intently, ears perked, tail wagging, eyes trained on the bowl that rested in her hand. Not bothering to explain to the dog what she was doing she dumped the oats into his bowl watching in fascination, disgust and envy as he devoured them in less than a minute.

She had no idea what time Will would be home. He had been vague about every aspect of the trip and if she hadn't known him better she would have wondered if they weren't really doing something else.

The world seemed muted, fuzzy in light of what she had just done. Nothing made sense anymore. Her recovery seemed like a mockery and yet the eating disorder sounded so daunting she wasn't sure she wanted it back. She felt stranded, caught between two lives with no way of breaking into the one she thought she wanted. Hurridly she flew about the apartment erasing all evidence of her transgression; scrubbing the counters with obsessive precision and washing the dishes thoroughly, a task she still despised and thought of as a reminder that she had just eaten. She hid the oatmeal in the same closet she had stashed the bloody towels.

* * *

Sitting on the couch with Will beside her Emma couldn't take it anymore.

"I bought oatmeal." Emma confessed ashamedly to the TV picking at a stubborn piece of lint that clung to the blanket between them.

"I know." Will answered. "I was just waiting for you to be the one to bring it up."

Emma stiffened at his words ashamed and worried. "I was going to make something but all of the ingredients had so many calories." She tried to explain thinking of the two tablespoons of peanut butter in the stir fry she had flipped past.

"It has calorie counts?" Will asked in frustration turning to face her.

Ever since he had gotten home Will had been easily aggravated by things that normally wouldn't phase him leaving Emma tip-toeing around almost paralyzed with shame that wasn't hers, a byproduct from her childhood.

She had played mediator on both sides of her family with the most effort undoubtedly going into diffusing situations between her father and his mother. They were absolutely incapable of getting along. More than one holiday had ended in tears the reason Emma still approached family get-togethers with trepidation.

The table would be immaculate, flawless and her dad might spill the salt, her cue to frantically search for a way to avoid the fall-out that would inevitably lead to her curled up in a ball in the farthest corner of the back bedroom as far away from their accusations about who had upset her as she could get. In her mind it was always her fault, her failure to keep everyone calm. Tonight was proving to be no different as Will's responses only grew more abrupt. Emma felt like that little girl huddled in her grandmother's bedroom, crying behind the bed, blowing her nose on the blue comforter waiting for the apology she felt she never deserved.

"Is this going to be a problem? "Will ignored her attempt at explaining her behavior, "You feeding stuff to the dog?" He motioned in the direction of the kitchen with a half-executed wave of his hand.

"There was oatmeal on the side of his dish when I went to feed him." He clarified with a harsh edge shoving her shame into the spotlight of his accusation. "I don't think we should use that cookbook for a while if it has calorie counts."

"It doesn't," Emma said half-heartedly. "I have them memorized."

"Well that's certainly not going to help anything." Will mumbled under his breath facing the TV again more than likely unaware she had heard.

Emma resumed her onslaught against the lint with vigor her eyes unfocused on the wall above the television her face flushed with the promise of tears. Quickly she jumped up stumbling over the blanket still wrapped around one leg on her way to the bedroom, her vision stolen as the promise pulled through.

Images of her younger self flashed through her mind magnified by the slam of the door behind her, magnified again when she heard Will call out her name apologetically. Expertly she felt her way through the darkness using the bed as a guide until she found the corner she wanted not caring how pathetic she was acting. All she wanted was comfort, to escape the delicate, tense situation in the other room.

"Emma, I'm sorry." Will's voice carried through the door revealing that he was standing just outside, "I've just had a stressful day. Shannon's car got a flat tire and I was out two hours in a down pour fixing it… and I know that's no excuse. Look, I'm going to go walk the dog okay? Give us both some time to cool down. I'll be back." He added as if suddenly remembering her fear of abandonment got worse with intense emotions.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"Screwed that up big time didn't I bud?" Will muttered under his breath listlessly doling out treats to the retriever that trotted obliviously at his side the uncharacteristically cool wind that whipped through his clothes only adding to his melancholy demeanor as he slowly made his way up the street.

He ended up at the local park though he had no destination in mind. An old oak tree served as a backrest, Moritz stretched out across his legs the slight warmth of his body a comfort in the chill night air.

Idly Will scratched the dog's stomach his thoughts snagged on Emma's earlier question. He clicked his tongue in the direction of Moritz foraying into the world of anthropomorphism for a few seconds when he noted they appeared to be full of understanding.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the small, black, velvet-covered real reason behind his trip with Shannon. "Someday we'll have this." He tossed the box into the air lightly catching it on its way back down.

Reluctantly he returned his thoughts to the question he had been contemplating earlier. "Her eyes held so much fear Moritz. I can't imagine being afraid that a mental illness would take away your ability to be a good mom. I wish I had an answer for her. I wish I could tell her she will be a fantastic mother. I believe that," he sighed, "of course that doesn't mean anything until she believes it herself."

A bird chirped in the distance effectively distracting his audience of one leaving him with a view of the back of the puppy's broad head. "Come on, we should get home. Assess the damage, "he half-joked tugging on the leash to get the dog to follow.

The box remained clutched in his free hand until he reached the front steps disappearing with a whispered promise that it wouldn't have to stay hidden for long. Pushing the door open he smiled as the sweet aroma of a vegetable he couldn't identify yet invaded his senses chasing away the last of his somber mood.

"Smells great!" He called out carelessly dropping the leash to the ground eager to wrap his arms around the woman that occupied so many of this thoughts. He stopped himself before he imagined a child waiting impatiently in a high chair for their meal. It was safer that way.

"I'm sorry Will." Emma turned to face him her eyes slightly wide like she wasn't sure about what she was doing.

He peered over her shoulder at a simple pot of green beans and smiled again. Despite being a vegetable it was a huge step for her. Normally she had reservations about canned things due to the high Sodium content. It wasn't a balanced meal. It wasn't even a meal but she had made it so he decided to let it slide. He had intended to suggest a board game, something light-hearted and fun when he felt the neatly folded piece of computer paper in his back pocket. He had completely forgotten that he had chanced the school computers after having heard the virus was gone and printed his letter. Mike had overheard him talking with Shannon about how upset he was over the missing document and had shown him that if he just typed in the folder name his stuff would appear. It was an extra step and a hassle but worth it. At the time he hadn't known when he would give it to her or even that he would end up adding to it but as he stood in the kitchen watching Emma bite her lip nervously while leaning over the stove he decided there were some things he had to get out.

"I have something for you." He fished the paper out taking her position by the stove in order for her to read. "You don't have to read it here. It spans a long time just so you know" Will trailed off as Emma made her way to the table without a word.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

_Dear Emma,_

_I never thought I would be one of those guys writing down things they couldn't bring themselves to say. Then again, I never thought I would be just one hour away from driving to your apartment for our first date. _

_I wish I could tell you how you make me feel, how I feel as though I'm walking on air as soon as I see your smile. We're going to do things right this time. I'm not going to lose you again._

_I'm sorry about the kiss. I should have waited. I'm worried about you although I know you would find that crazy. You seemed skinnier tonight than I thought you would be. I don't think I should have been able to feel your ribs. I know you are sick but it must be worse than I thought. I hope you get to feeling better. I'm going to watch you though, just to make sure. _

_How did I not notice what was going on? I've never seen anyone like that before. I'm sorry I tried to get you to eat that cookie. It was a stupid idea. I really didn't think anything was this severe but I had a hunch. I should have left you alone. Maybe then what happened tonight wouldn't have happened. I'm sorry. How did I not notice?_

_My god Emma, I can't imagine what you are going through right now. It's two in the morning on Thursday and they just called me to say that her heartbeat was in the two hundreds. They said we could go get something to eat, that I didn't have to tell you right away. You look so peaceful sleeping next to me. I'll wait a while longer. Sweetie, I don't think she's going to make it._

_I've never seen this much blood. I'm worried about you, more than worried. If this keeps up I will be forced to take you to the hospital. Please don't hurt yourself. You're the most amazing person I know. You don't deserve it no matter how much you think otherwise._

_A lot of things have happened since I wrote last but I'm so proud of you for actually talking with Dan and Kristen. We will get through this. _

_I could have killed him, for touching you like that. I could have killed him and I hate that you still trust him. Look at what he did to you. How can you still trust that man? I'm so sorry I left you there. I'll never forgive myself for that. I'll never forgive myself if it impedes your recovery. I never meant to let you get hurt._

_Somewhere along the way I stopped updating this regularly. Today, I have to. Today I took you to the psychiatric ward. I have to tell you why I didn't turn around. It wasn't because I was ashamed or mad. I didn't turn around because if I would have seen your face I wouldn't have been able to leave. That was the hardest thing I ever had to do Emma, leaving you there._

_You're worried about making a good mother. I know that you will be a fantastic mother. I don't know how to tell you that it will be the disorder that causes the problem even though you know that. I can't say it out loud Em, how worried I am that we will either lose a baby or that you will relapse afterwards. I don't want to scare you. I'm scared enough for myself. You promised your mother a grandchild tonight. I can tell you one thing; you're not crazy and although you haven't mentioned it I know you're afraid of bringing someone "crazy" into this world. That won't happen Emma. You're not crazy. Someday I hope you believe me when I say that._

_Moritz is attempting to chew my sock off as I write this. I've seen you with him and what I'm seeing is not comforting. I've seen you stop him from drinking because he will look too bloated. I've secretly watched you cut back his food if you thought he looked fat. I can see it in your eyes Em, the anger you feel towards him when you think he looks too heavy. The same anger you directed at yourself. He's not fat. Actually he was too skinny for a while. I was going behind your back, feeding him during the night because I couldn't figure out how to bring this up. I obviously still can't figure it out. We definitely need to talk about this with someone. Emma, if you're eating disordered mindset can transfer to a dog it could transfer to a child. I'm not trying to scare you. I'm only trying to help._

_I love you,_

_Will_

"We don't have to talk tonight." Will assured her. "Let's just forget about it all for right now. Up for a game of Scrabble? I'll win this time. I've been reading the dictionary at night." He grinned easily crossing the floor to help her stand.

Even though she was crying his joke still made her laugh as she helped him to set the table.

* * *

A/N: Okay, what did you think?


	35. Chapter 34 Part 2

A/N: This obviously was not a planned addition to Chapter 34 but I just wasn't happy with the way I ended the chapter. Every time I read it I felt like it stopped in the middle of something. So, here you are. As always, let me know what you think please! This is not going to magically fix everything and I apologize for all of you clicking on here expecting more than five hundred some words.

/

* * *

**Will's POV**

"I'm just trying to keep him healthy." Emma ignored his offer of Scrabble as she filled a glass of water. "He's too heavy right now Will. I don't want to be that dog owner with the overweight dog. Those people are just lazy." She spat the word.

"Is that what you think this is?" He questioned lightly aware Emma was being pulled into the disorder more with every word she spoke. "C'mere." Will motioned her over gently placing one of her hands over Moritz' ribcage.

"What do you feel?" He whispered in the face of their proximity.

"Fat." Emma replied as though he had asked her the answer for two plus two.

"No Emma, this is normal." He stressed. "You're supposed to have to press down lightly to feel his ribs. Like this, "Will covered her hand with his applying a small amount of pressure. "Now what do you feel?"

"Now I just feel like I'm having to use too much pressure to feel his ribs. I don't understand." She admitted softly, a tremble in her voice. "I don't understand anything. Why is this so easy for everyone else? She ground out harshly her breathing quickening as she ripped her hand out from under his distancing herself from them until her back was against the farthest wall.

"Tell me it will be okay." She sobbed wrapping her arms around her torso tightly like she was trying to grant herself some sense of comfort.

Will let go of Moritz, watching with envy as the dog removed himself from the situation he was trapped in. This wasn't what he had planned and in a way he thought as his hand reached for his pocket what he was about to do fit the pattern of their relationship better than anything he could have come up with.

"Emma if I didn't believe it would be okay would I have gotten this?" He produced the velvet box he had contemplated with Moritz in the park crossing the kitchen so that he was standing directly in front of her.

"If I didn't believe it would be okay I wouldn't do this." He whispered dropping to one knee. "I wasn't planning on this tonight but it's the only way I can think of to answer your question with something more tangible for you than words. Emma Pillsbury," Will carefully opened the box, "will you marry me?"

His eyes found more tears, different tears, tears supported by a smile rather than anguish as he waited nervously for her reaction.

"Yes," Her voice broke over her whispered answer. "Yes, yes!"

Will grinned in surprise as she lowered herself to the ground so that she was kneeling before him. Gently he wrapped his fingers around her left hand sliding the engagement ring over her finger his eyes never leaving hers. "It'll be okay."

* * *

A/N: I thought about simply editing chapter thirty-four but I figured that might get confusing for those of you who have already read it.


	36. Chapter 35

A/N: Sorry about all the dialogue, hopefully it doesn't detract from anything. Once again, a lot of confessions and explanations needed so they can move forward as well as some angst. Let me know what you think.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

**Emma's POV**

Emma tentatively reached out to turn the warm water on intent on taking a shower even if it was four in the morning. So far, throughout treatment she had only felt like she was gaining weight at the expense of her confidence and as an added bonus, becoming reacquainted with her OCD. This was one of the reasons she was determined to take a shower, something that had only grown harder with time. She had tried yesterday evening and failed but today she could no longer stand how dirty she felt.

Turning the water on was the easy part. It was the prospect of everything afterwards that had led her to where she was now, sitting with her back against the cupboard opposite the tub, a towel draped around her body, her hands resting carefully at her sides as she stared at nothing.

At three-thirty she had woken up with a smile seeming to instantly register the ring that was now lying on the counter above her head. She had examined it for half an hour under the safety of Will's gentle breathing for the first time, too embarrassed to do it while he could see.

It was a simple piece of jewelry as far as engagement rings went; dainty and feminine, a silver band with a single diamond in the center. She thought it was lovely, perfect, not too elegant it would draw undue attention but not plain and boring either. Despite its simplicity it had already had some profound effects. As she had made her way to the bathroom she hadn't been subjected to a litany of reasons why Will might leave her the proof of commitment on her finger holding them at bay. It had been a blessed five foot journey in normalcy until she had come face to face with the reason for her excursion to begin with.

Emma clamored to her feet, the restlessness in her mind mirrored by the restlessness that coursed through her body. She tried not to think about just how difficult the pacing had become to stop over the last couple weeks.

During one pass she stilled long enough to check the temperature of the water. On another she attempted to crawl in. Both efforts were eventually thwarted by what was now manifesting as an overwhelming, irresistible urge to move. If she sat still it felt like she would jump out of her skin and her mind sprinted from thought to thought, worry to worry faster than it normally did. As soon as she started pacing both sensations would lesson somewhat. Over and over she retraced her footsteps in the small bathroom, the sound of water hitting the bottom of the tub mocking her inability to regain control long enough to get clean.

A knock on the door startled her. Will did not normally get up at four in the morning which meant she must have woken him knowledge that left her feeling embarrassed for openly admiring the ring for so long.

When he simply opened the door and walked in Emma knew he was aware something was not right. There was always something not right with her.

"Baby," he called half-yawning the word. "Are you okay?" Will crossed the room placing his hand against the towel that covered her lower back.

Emma flinched involuntarily at the pet name instantly back in the park with Gates, his rude hands roaming up her stomach, across her chest, his erection pressed into her thigh as he held her against the tree, the sound of his voice as he had called her baby reverberating in her mind.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will watched in confusion as Emma tore away from his touch continuing the incessant pacing that was fast growing difficult to watch her eyes losing their focus as her breathing grew rapid. Carefully he followed her, blocking her path when she tried to keep moving once she was facing him again.

"What's wrong?" He questioned lightly daring to place his hand on her forearm pulling back as if he had been burned when Emma shrank away.

It wasn't uncommon for her to act this way if she was feeling fat but there was something different this time.

"Please, don't do this. Please." She begged her eyes cloudy and fearful.

Will froze those five words more than enough to tell him what was going on. Carefully he backed away from his hands held at chest height in the universal gesture of surrender.

"Emma," he began softly working around the hitch in his voice, "He's not here."

She wasn't as far gone as he thought she was. His voice seemed to be working so he kept it up telling her over and over that she was safe as he inched closer breathing a sigh of relief when he was finally able to wrap his arms around her the absence of a flinch evidence enough that he had broken through.

"I have nightmares sometimes." Her breath was warm against his neck.

Will had often wondered if she hadn't. Just within her starting treatment he had woken up to the sound of her crying on a few separate occasions. He had tried to write it off but the second time, when she had told herself that she was safe with him, that he wouldn't let anyone hurt her, fabricating an excuse other than the truth had become impossible.

Often he had started to address the topic only to back off before his questions had a chance to truly form. Now, as he stood hopelessly by as Emma resumed her pacing he had the chance. The door was open. His feet felt weighted with lead.

"About him," he offered keeping both of them on the right track. "What happens?"

She glanced up briefly her eyes frantic, ashamed and pleading. "You don't come."

With that one admission, the unspoken implication no one needed to voice his feet were no longer weighted and he was across the room in seconds gathering Emma into his arms, holding her close, one hand tangled in her hair keeping her head tucked just under his chin.

"That didn't happen Emma." He spoke softly into the steam-filled air reaching with one hand to turn the water off. "I don't know what to say." He confessed cursing the tears that were starting to fall. "I can't tell you not to think that way. Not when I can't stop myself from doing it."

Emma tore herself away leaving a heart-breaking hurt that reverberated throughout his entire being.

"I'm sorry. It's not you. I have to move." She seemed to sense his misjudgment of her action.

Will frowned momentarily abandoning the problem he had always known hadn't gone away. He asked her to sit down his concern growing when tearful eyes found his and she choked out that she wasn't sure she could. Reluctantly he acknowledged the pattern reaching for his phone.

"What are you doing?" She demanded in the middle of an about turn on the other side of the room.

"Just, "Will sighed," the pacing, it started when they upped that med. I'm just going to ask a couple questions."

"It's four in the morning. No one will be there." She circled around him once before restarting her path.

"There's an emergency number." He told her holding his breath.

"Who's crazy? My psychopharmacologist and I." Emma sang the show tune lyrics they had laughed at two days prior with a bitter edge.

"This isn't you Emma." If you were in control right now you would be able to sit down." He pointed out, motioning to the toilet.

"I can sit down!" She retorted, obviously desperate for him to put his phone away.

"Then sit Em. He said, his voice laced with unconcealed sympathy. "If you can sit still for one minute I won't call."

He wanted to look away from the conflict he saw in her eyes, the determination that kept it company. Both undermined in less than ten seconds as she jumped up from the toilet she had barely sat on and raced out of the bathroom with a frustrated groan.

It was less than two seconds before she flew past the open door again asking herself why she couldn't stop, answering that she hoped it was the meds fucking her up. Will grimaced at her harsh word choice hitting send on the number already pulled up.

"Rivergroves on call Psychiatrist Cheryl Jensen, how may I help you?" The concerned female answered quicker than he had expected driving home that he had no idea what to say.

Emma made herself scarce as soon as he began speaking but he could still detect her rhythmic footfalls on the kitchen floor.

"Ah yes this is Will Schuester and my fiancé Emma Pillsbury is a patient in your day program for eating disorders. A few weeks ago they increased the dosage on one of her medications." He paused.

"Risperdal, " Emma yelled from the kitchen. "One milligram to two."

Will wasn't sure whether to be grateful she was eavesdropping or embarrassed as he repeated her words into the phone.

"What's the problem?" Cheryl inquired politely.

"She can't stop pacing. It started a few weeks ago but, "Will silently apologized to Emma, "she has pretty severe OCD and I just thought it was a returning symptom. She really can't stop." He emphasized again.

The line was quiet for a moment and Will held his breath hoping the woman would be able to tell him what to do. He had enough to tackle with her right now with the Gates issue both of them had been skating around. Up until now he hadn't realized just how badly they avoided serious topics until they were so out of proportion they could no longer be ignored.

Will listened as Dr. Jensen told him that it sounded like the Risperdal was reacting with some of her other meds and causing something known as Akithesia or an inner restlessness that was impossible to ignore without sedation. He was supposed to make sure she didn't take any more of the med. Apparently Akithesia was a fairly common side-effect and Will wasn't sure if he was comforted or not by Dr. Jensen's admission that she was surprised Emma hadn't developed it sooner. It would take a day for it to get out of her system and Will insisted they could handle it that she didn't need any form of tranquilizer. The doctor advised keeping her home from the day program saying she knew first hand that meditation was the topic for much of the therapy sessions and that they didn't want to make Emma any more uncomfortable than she probably already was.

When Dr. Jensen informed him that suicidal ideation tended to increase in these situations he got slightly nervous and decided he was definitely calling into work. On a whim he asked if what had happened earlier where she had dissociated could be related to her brain firing so fast carefully leaving out exactly what the subject matter was. He was both relieved and worried he was told that it was more than possible. Before she hung she reminded him again to not leave her alone for long assuring pointlessly that he didn't have anything to be concerned. Like hell he didn't. He nodded silently the sudden absence of background noise reminding him that he was completely unsure how to tell Emma any of what he had just learned.

She appeared in the doorway before he could formulate his thoughts her eyes questioning and pensive.

"Akithesia," the word felt awkward on his tongue," inner restlessness. She thinks two of your meds are interacting badly and intensifying what is normally a minor side-effect."

"Synergistic Effect, when one plus one equals three," Emma mumbled with a realization Will didn't share her detached tone showing she was reciting something she had learned in a class.

"She wants you to stop taking it and," Will took a breath, "also suggested staying home today. It will take a day for this to go away."

"I couldn't pace at Rivergroves?" Emma, asked already beginning to pace.

"She didn't want to make you uncomfortable and honestly I agree with her Em. Besides, the prevailing theme for the day is meditation and I know how much you love that."

Emma wrinkled her nose, "Yuck and I think she meant she doesn't want the other patients to peg me as one fry short of a Happy Meal."

"Maybe." He spoke to himself contemplating the unintentional irony in her analogy Emma having already taken off down the hall.

Will turned studying his reflection in the mirror wondering how one morning, the morning after he had spontaneously proposed to the woman who meant everything to him could have gone so wrong. Looking down he noticed her ring probably taken off for the shower her mind hadn't allowed her. Gently he pocketed it and headed into the hall his mind refusing to fixate on any other than how Emma had thought he was Gates.

Side-effect of a chemical reaction or not, for better or worse he wanted to discuss her reaction with her in private before they involved someone else. Either way he was going to be bringing it up to Dan or Dr. Wicker for no other reason than to gain some insight on the shame and anger he had that at times was so strong he could almost believe he hadn't gotten there on time.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

It was noon and she still didn't whether to laugh or cry. Her emotions were just as sporadic as her movements but unlike her pacing that covered the same ground with every swipe they were all over the place. The medicine that was supposed to be leveling her out was proving it could accomplish just the opposite to exacting standards.

It had plagued her through breakfast forcing Will to make something she could carry back and forth across the living room. The same had happened with lunch. Ironically she hadn't had the energy to care that Will had positioned himself where he could see her and called the dog over to him.

She hadn't sat down since he had asked her to eight hours earlier. Her legs screamed in protest with the repeated motions but for those eight hours she had only successfully stood still for seconds at a time. Finally she had stopped trying that, the pain only worse when she inevitably started moving again.

Will had tried a few things to see if they would help. They had attempted a game of Scrabble under his reasoning that maybe something cognitively challenging would help. When that hadn't worked he had given her some freshly laundered clothes to carry to the bedroom joking that if she was pacing anyways she could pace productively. That was when she had learned that she only took twelve steps before turning around, too short a distance for the task. They had both given up after that. So far she hadn't gotten any form of a break. She had abandoned the idea of going to the bathroom after the third unsuccessful try.

He was now sitting on the floor by the couch working with Moritz on Leave It placing a treat on the carpet then covering it with his hand. When Moritz stopped trying to nudge his way to the food Will would praise him and produce a different treat from his mouth. On one of her walk-through's she had commented on how disgusting that was and asked why he didn't simply hide the treat in his other hand. He had explained that if he did that Moritz would learn to look to his hand instead of his face when he heard the command. He had gone on to say that he could wait for the dog to look at him but that he didn't feel like adding the extra step. Emma would have added ten extra steps if it meant she could bypass putting dog food in her mouth.

"I have an idea." Will told her as she breezed past for the hundredth time. "We have to go outside though."

"Will, people will see me."

"Trust me." He smiled grabbing Moritz' leash and clipping it to his collar. "They won't think anything of your pacing if this works."

* * *

**Will's POV**

"Okay hold the leash in your left hand." Will walked alongside Emma giving instructions that normally he would have stood still to impart."Then you are going to start walking with him. When he starts to pull do an about turn and come back the other direction and make sure to give him a treat every time he happens to be in the heel position on your left."

"What exactly is heel position?" Emma asked struggling with holding the treats and a leash in the same hand.

"When he is even with your knee and don't say the command right away. He has to learn the behavior first." Will reminded excited that Emma was actually open to working with the dog. "You know if you are having problems with those treats you could always put them in your mouth." He teased jogging a bit to keep up with her as they made their way down the street.

"No." Emma declared. "Absolutely not. Nothing could make me do that. It's disgusting."

"Not even a kiss?" He offered with a wink.

"Definitely not a kiss, I saw you put that food in your mouth." Emma laughed at his pout.

"What if I want a kiss?" He pressed enjoying their banter in light of everything that had been so serious about the day.

"Then I would tell you to go brush your teeth."

Emma made an abrupt about turn as Moritz started to pull in the direction of a squirrel. Will praised the dog when she forgot but didn't stop his quest for a kiss, determined now.

"I think it would be good exposure therapy training. Come on, one little close-mouthed kiss. You can even keep walking." He increased his strides again to keep up.

"That would be a feat." Emma responded tossing Moritz a treat.

"That sounded like a challenge."He spoke playfully waving at a neighbor and their embarrassment over their out of control dog.

Without warning he jumped in front of Emma and the dog placing his hands on her shoulders to halt her forward motion leaning in to place a kiss against her lips ignoring her squeal of shock. To his surprise Emma deepened the kiss for a second then pushed past him with a frustrated groan calling out that she was sorry.

Will jogged up beside her, "Thank you for the kiss." He said professionally producing the ring he had been meaning to give to her for most the day.

"How did I forget about that?" Emma questioned with concern relaxing somewhat when he told her it was fine, that she had a lot on her mind. She murmured a quick thank you before starting forward again. This time Will didn't follow.

Despite what Cheryl had said Emma had been in a pretty decent mood the entire day. A much better sport than he would be if a medicine was making it impossible for him to stop pacing. She had attempted to describe how it felt saying that it was almost like a miniature panic attack without the heavy breathing if she didn't start moving. She had said it was like that feeling when you think about getting up to do something and your body tenses but you don't move. Her body was tense all the time and she couldn't ignore the urge to try and get rid of it through some form of mobility.

So far working with the dog seemed to be helping. She was still able to pace and turn around again at a semi-regular time and she was doing him a favor as well. He hated teaching heel, found it tedious and frustrating. If there was one thing he Will wished a dog had innate knowledge of it was the command to heel.

In a way the diligence mastering the command required reminded him of the diligence Emma had to put forth to recover. One walk without heeling would be all it took to dash the progress he had made with Moritz until the dog knew what he was doing. Every time they went on a walk after that the dog would try to pull relying on the prior experience of it working once.

One skipped meal had the power to trample all of Emma's progress. She had talked about that before, about how the desire to just skip a meal was so strong but that if she did she knew it would just lead to skipping the next. He hated watching her struggle with eating, not having found a happy medium yet between eating fast and taking her time. The worst part to him had been her explanation over lunch about her inability to interpret hunger cues the same way. His were so simple. When he was hungry he ate, when he was full he stopped. Not once in his entire life had the feeling of his stomach growling brought any form of satisfaction or euphoria the way it did her. Humans, like animals, sought out what made them feel good. He couldn't imagine the hell it must be to take a feeling of discomfort that evolutionarily all living things were predisposed to take as a signal to partake in a life-saving activity and have it be comparable to the exhileration he felt when listening to a particularly good song.

They had talked briefly while she had paced throughout the apartment about his discovery that she had fed Moritz the night before. Will had been careful to sit on the edge of the couch so he could see her deciding finally that just calling the dog over to him was the easiest. It was embarrassing and he felt like a parent rubbing their child's misdeeds in their face as the dog had trotted over completely unaware of his role in everything.

Sometimes he felt like their relationship was horribly unbalanced, that he was playing the part of a parent instead of a significant other. Her disorder left her virtually incapable of taking care of herself and while he didn't mind stepping in he was anxious for the time when he wouldn't have to or if he did it could be from a far. That was something he had discussed with Dan who had assured him that at someday they would get to that point. Everything was hinged on the hope of a someday. Someday she would be recovered. Someday they would get married. Someday they might have children. While their life together rested on the shoulders of that day, that day revolved around the eating disorder. To Will, that was insurmountable evidence to just how debilitating this disease was to not only the sufferer but those around them. It had the power to derail her life and leave theirs as a couple at an almost complete stand-still all at once.

The feeling of a dog leash coming to rest in his hand jolted Will out of his thoughts and he watched with curiosity as Emma answered her phone, a large grin breaking out across her face as she excitedly told someone congratulations and headed for the apartment.

"Good dog" Will said distractedly as he followed her into the building.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma could barely stop pacing long enough to look at the digital images of her pregnant friend filling the monitor. Instinctively her hand went to her stomach as she half-listened to horror stories about swollen ankles and raging hormones caught up more in how her bloated belly looked like the pregnant one she was staring at.

It was a given that she would bloat her body having gone so long without regular food and truthfully she didn't know whether she could trust her judgment about how she looked compared to her friend or not.

Lightly she traced the outline of her stomach taken off guard when the voice on the other end suddenly started questioning her.

"Well, Emmy how have you been?" Her emphasis was the same as hers had been leaving no room for misinterpretation about what the question really meant.

"I'm doing better I think. It's so hard though. Will, he's great but it's so hard." She spoke freely updating her friend on recent events not having talked with her for quite a few months. "I think I'm really getting better this time though. It feels hypocritical to say that." Emma backtracked, "and sometimes I feel like I was a bad example of someone with an eating disorder."

Stephanie's laughter filled her ear as she told her just how messed up that logic was but that she understood having felt the same way.

"So," Stephanie drew out the word," Any news on the baby front?"

"We need to talk about it." Emma said as she left behind the images that were so alluring yet frightening in favor of pacing up and down the hall. "I want to." She whispered for some reason not wanting Will to hear. "I'm afraid."

"I was too, but it was the best thing I could have done. I wasn't even completely recovered. I was weight-restored but the mindset was still there. It really helped Emmy." Emma cringed at the nick name Stephanie had picked one day and never dropped.

"Are you on birth control?"

"Yes," Emma whispered again, "I started some a couple months ago." She closed her eyes knowing where the question was leading.

"Have you-?" Stephanie trailed off suggestively.

"No, I think we are going to wait until after the wedding."

"That is so sweet! Wait, you think? Is that doubt I'm detecting?" Stephanie pounced on her uncertainty like she always did.

"I don't want to be nervous on our wedding night. I want to know what to expect. I want to feel comfortable with my body." Emma rushed to get the words out.

"Well, I'm not going to tell you what to do. Whatever you choose it will work out but I think it's adorable that you are thinking of waiting. Sometimes I wish Steve and I had done that but then again I would still be trapped." She didn't emphasize, didn't need to.

"What about after the baby is born?" Emma didn't feel the need to elaborate.

"I'm worried about that." Stephanie sobered instantly. "Worried that I will freak out about the baby weight. I don't know Emmy but right now I'm okay with not knowing. I can't know everything." Emma smiled at her friend's eternal optimism.

"I mean, I have a support group in place just in case things start go bad but I'm hoping I won't have to use them. It's been so liberating, not having to think about food every second of every day and not feeling like a tub of lard for eating a sandwich."

"I want that." Emma said softly.

"Then go get it." Stephanie declared. "Take charge of your own destiny. I love my life right now Emmy. I want the same thing for you and I know Will does too. We both just want you to be happy." She finished seriously.

They talked for a while longer about the wedding Emma hadn't been able to attend due to school and married life before Stephanie realized the time.

"Oh," Emma exclaimed just before Stephanie hung up, "remember those stupid shirts you gave me back in college? Will liked them." Emma smiled remembering his reaction to the provocative sayings.

After enduring good-natured teasing Stephanie finally hung up leaving Emma unable to focus on anything else other than how much her legs hurt from her constant walking. She tried to ignore the thoughts of how many calories she might be burning distracted by the fact that she had been standing still and completely unaware.

"Oh my God thank you." She murmured to herself relieved that although still present the urge to move seemed to be lessening considerably.

* * *

By eleven o'clock that night her pacing had stopped completely. Will was on his back next to her in bed with her hand on his chest while her head rested on his shoulder. It was a calm moment she hated to disrupt but there were things she really wanted to say to him.

It wasn't easy, opening up to him and sharing her insecurities. It made her feel even more vulnerable than if she kept them to herself. Over the course of their relationship he had been so incredibly honest with her about so many things that she felt it was the least she could do and often after she was done talking she felt better, relieved like a burden had been lifted.

She thought about Stephanie, about the life she wanted, about Will's note with the fears he hadn't been able to say out loud.

"I get scared too." Emma threaded her fingers through Will's leaving their hands resting on his chest. "Every day I feel like I'm losing myself, freely giving up the only thing that makes me a worthwhile person. A friend of mine who was Anorexic through college called me today. She's pregnant." Emma paused caught up in how strange it was to hear her voice say that word. "she had me go on facebook and look at pictures and I could think about was how my stomach looks like that right now but I don't have an excuse."

"You don't look pregnant Emma." Will assured her with a gentle squeeze to her hand.

She continued, unable to comment on something that to her was a controversial statement. She really did feel she looked like her friend.

"I asked how she was doing. That's all I had to say. She knew what I meant and she said she was surprising even herself with how good she is doing, that she knows she has to eat for the little girl inside of her." Emma lowered her voice ashamed of her feelings. "I'm so jealous of her. It's almost like I'm angry really. Jealous and angry that she is finding herself, that she's pregnant, that she has a life even though I know the true test is still coming for her."

"Emma, Will interrupted untangling his hand from hers and turning slightly so he could cup the side of her face, "don't feel you have to do this for me. I'm not leaving you. If we really want kids there are other options."

"It wouldn't be just for you." Emma covered his hand with hers. "You saved my life Will. You're helping me to get away from this and I want to be a mom." Another word that sounded odd, full of implications three letters should be able to contain.

"I just don't want to lose you." He rolled over so he was facing her "but Emma, I want a child so badly. I would be lying if I downplayed that."

Emma leaned forward searching for his mouth in the darkness initiating a kiss that was full of everything she couldn't say; assurances, fear, determination. Slowly she deepened the kiss.

* * *

**Will's POV**

He wanted so horribly to touch her but kept his hands at his sides her withdrawal earlier in the day still fresh in his mind.

"I know you won't hurt me." She spoke softly placing his hand on her hip.

"This morning," he protested as her lips found his again. "We need to talk."

"I don't want to talk right now." Will shivered as her hands tentatively raised the hem of his shirt sliding slowly across his stomach.

"Emma, Emma. Stop." He grabbed her hands trapping them both in one of his. "I'm not comfortable doing this until we talk. I need to know what triggered all that in the bathroom. I know some of it was the meds but was it me? Was any of it me?"

He almost didn't catch her quiet whisper to please not call her baby, that every time she heard the term all she could think of was him. He hadn't even been aware he had said it. Generally speaking he didn't thanks to his own bad connotations with Terri. It never seemed to fit Emma.

"It's not your fault." She said before he could apologize. "None of this is." The way her voice trailed off left no room for his imagination.

"It's not yours either Emma."

She snorted.

"I told him I had a crush on him and I should have known what was going on with those emails."

"No one understands the world at fifteen and the crush, that was natural. He was showing an interest in you. Emma," he began slowly, "please answer me honestly. Do you ever feel afraid of me when we are intimate?" He closed his eyes bracing for the worst.

"I know you wouldn't hurt me." She replied again as if that answered his question.

Will pushed at her shoulder lightly coaxing her onto her back then onto her side so that her back was to him and wrapped his arms around her torso bringing her in close.

"Do you ever feel afraid?" He repeated hoping their different position would make it easier for her to open up. He would have a hard time talking about something like this facing someone even if he couldn't see them. It was too personal.

"I'm afraid of how you will react to my body." Her voice cracked as her body shook slightly, "This morning, this morning I was afraid of you. I thought you were him. All I could feel when you tried to touch me was his hands on my body." Emma took a deep breath. "Can we talk about something else?"

"No, this is important Emma. We can't avoid it." He felt horrible for forcing her to talk but if he let it drop it would only become harder to discuss. "Promise me that if you ever are scared by anything I do that you will tell me. I won't be offended. I won't think of you differently. Just promise me."

"I promise." She whispered reaching back to grab one of his hands and wrap it in her own.

"We're not done with this." He both gave in and apologized for her emotional distress with a gentle kiss to the back of her neck holding her tighter as he rested his forehead against the place his mouth had just left.

She started talking about the wedding. They both agreed to wait until after Rivergroves to start planning. Her simple confession that she wanted to eat a piece of wedding cake without it being anything more than a piece of cake left him contemplating everything they had been through.

They were doing this, working towards a life together without her eating disorder. She was in treatment. They were getting married. She wanted a child. They both wanted a child.

He didn't know how she was so strong, sabotaging something that was a part of herself every day for a chance at the life it denied her. Recently she had taken steps backward but she hadn't given up. After listening to everything she went through just to maintain the ground she already had Will wasn't sure how she ever managed to move forwards. In the end she was more determined than she knew and he wished he could show her that.

He couldn't wait for the day when all of this was behind them. He was so proud of her already. Every time he put himself in her shoes he had to reluctantly admit that he didn't know if he would have held out as long as she had when around every turn there was something waiting to force her to start over.

Delicately Will placed another kiss where the first one had been whispering his own confession into the night.

"You wouldn't believe it but you saved my life too. You got me out of a terrible marriage, helped me fi-"his voice cracked with emotion, "find my passion again. You've taught me so much and you wouldn't believe this either but the time we have spent together, I wouldn't trade that for anything."

He listened silently to the sound of her breathing taking solace in the heat of her body and the feel of her hair against his face as he closed his eyes confident in the face of the uncertainty the sunrise promised to throw at them.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts please.


	37. Chapter 36

A

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

**Emma's POV**

"About time that boy got around to that!" A voice hollered from across the room as Emma walked through the double doors onto the main floor of Rivergroves.

She couldn't contain her grin as she ran over to join her friend. It had been a week since Emma had seen Sophia waiting for her to join her for breakfast.

Emma blushed, "It wasn't planned. Well, we had talked about it but it wasn't planned." She finished lamely. "You sound…lost."

"I think I am." Sophia grinned half-heartedly.

"I just couldn't bring myself to come here not when everything seemed so pointless, seems." She amended wryly.

"I wish I could just suck up everyone's hurt with some vacuum. The Emotional Vacuum, that's trademark right there." Sophia joked her smile not reaching her eyes. "Weird ass imagery I know sucking all the bad emotions out of people with a vacuum. Who says I don't belong here?"She quipped.

"What's going on?" Emma asked gently knowing that her friend had something she desperately wanted to talk about.

"It's Chaaya. She broke up with this jerk of a guy who basically broke her heart although she is being all strong about it and sometimes… I don't know." Sophia poked at a slice of ham aimlessly with her fork. "Sometimes I wish I could just take her hurt away you know? I mean I can't physically go up and give her a hug. I have this reputation for being cold and stand-offish but it's only because it's so hard to be close to her. Emma, she touches my arm and I can't breathe."

"You should hug her. It would mean so much to her coming from you because you don't show affection like that very much." Emma offered slowly taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Good, eat." Sophia deadpanned. "I hear from some little birdies that you haven't been and that is unacceptable missy." Despite the good-natured twist Sophia was putting on her words Emma found herself feeling guilty.

"Have you ever told her you loved her? I mean, as a friend at least?" Emma asked around a small bite of food.

"Once. I don't remember what we were talking about but I kind of casually slipped it in at the end, kind of like one of those 'for what it's worth, I love you' things. She said it meant a lot to her because I she knows I don't say things like that often. What she doesn't know is that I say those things all the time, every day, always to her, always in my head or emails that I never send." Sophia rolled her eyes. "I have like ten emails addressed to her. She told me that she loved me once. I was having this crap day and it was like those three words coming from her mouth were suddenly magic." Sophia sighed. "I've spilled my soul to her ten times in glorified binary code because all I have to do is click this little button but I can't do it. I can't."

"Don't send an email." Emma replied cautiously hoping she wasn't going to offend. "Not for something you feel so strongly about. It will only downplay how you feel, make it seem less credible no matter how eloquently worded. When you tell her, and you will because someday you will realize that you're tired of hiding, you have to tell her face to face. Don't make it grand," Emma continued trying to ignore Sophia's attempt to cut in, "keep it simple, real."

"Do you watch that show, Glee?" Sophia questioned, her voice sad. "There is a character on there that is in love with another female student and she sang this love song to her saying how she really feels. I know it's stupid and it shouldn't have affected me like it did but I bawled. I've never cried like that watching TV. That girl, she did something I couldn't do and no matter how strong I am about all of this the fact that a fictional character can do that while I can't hurts. It's making me think. Like your ring," she motioned to Emma's hand," I don't know if I would ever get married but if she wanted to I would in a heartbeat. Seeing you get what I want, even if what you want does have different body parts" Sophia chuckled slightly," that hurts too."

Emma felt her heart break for the conflict Sophia was experiencing. She knew first-hand how difficult it was to keep how you truly felt from someone because you were afraid of losing them as a friend.

"I do watch Glee and I thought of you during that scene. You need to tell her Sophia. You can't keep letting it chip away at you like this. Just in the last few weeks you have admitted to thinking about it more. It's affecting your work and even though I don't know you well I know that is something you usually wouldn't stand for. You're efficient. What's going on right now, this is the antithesis of efficient." Emma spoke softly so they would garner no eavesdroppers.

"Just tell her. If she is the friend you claim she is she will not run away from you. Things might be awkward if she doesn't feel the same way for a while but in the end you will feel so much better. Trust me, I know. I've told Will things recently that I haven't ever told anyone and even though it made me feel embarrassed that he knew it ultimately felt like a weight had been lifted. Time really does heal all wounds, not completely but it creates a pretty hardcore scab. I always thought people were crazy saying that but after everything I went through with my mom's death I'm starting to believe it.

"Maybe," Sophia agreed, "but I still think those people are full of shit. I'll exclude the shit part with you because I like you." She grinned taking a bite of the ham that was riddled with holes from a vindictive fork.

Emma looked up to see Dr. Wicker making his way towards their table. It was time for a group therapy session with Will. He would be walking through the doors at any minute. She didn't have much time and she didn't want to let the moment slide by.

"Tell her." Emma stood up and pushed her chair in. "Tell her before it's too late and you spend the rest of your life regretting what you didn't do. She deserves to know Sophia. She deserves to know why you cut yourself out of her life for a year and a half. No matter how hard it is for you, you owe her that much. Tell her." She repeated again knowing that there was nothing more she could say to the woman, that Sophia now had to make the choice on her own hoping that eventually she would make the one that was right for her.

"Hey there." Emma turned to find Will standing behind her.

"Hey. You ready?" She asked.

"I think so." He answered honestly following her into a session both of them knew wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

"Emma," Dr. Wicker began carefully. "I think it's important you talk about what happened that day in the park. I know this won't be easy and it's up to you if you want Will to stay or not."

"Is this going to help anything?" Emma asked anxiously feeling like she was in an interrogation chamber with no way out.

"I think it will help us," Dr. Wicker motioned to himself and Will, "and you understand a little better."

Emma looked down at their intertwined hands tightening her grip silently asking him not to leave. Will returned the gesture quietly agreeing the warmth of his touch cementing her confidence to speak.

"It started out as just talking. He asked about my job at McKinley but never wanted to hear about Will. He brought up this song we had worked on for over a year when I had been in high school and touched my arm. That should have been my first clue I guess." Emma looked first from Dr. Wicker then to Will. "I was just so desperate to believe that everything was a misunderstanding. It all just went downhill after that."

"How so?" Dr. Wicker questioned her softly.

"He scooted closer saying he couldn't hear me over the wind and again I pushed away my discomfort still trying to convince myself he was the man I thought he was. How stupid could I get? Finally he brought up the emails and somehow I worked up the guts, or the stupidity, "Emma amended, "to ask him what had been going on. He told me it had been harmless, that he was only trying to prove that I was desirable. I believed him." She snorted." He said it was harmless and I believed him. What mentor tries to make their student feel desirable?" Will's hands tensed in hers. This time she knew he hadn't been trying to comfort her.

"When he told me that he liked me I said the same back." Emma looked up at Will trying to ignore the pain etched in his features. "I don't think I've told you that. I told him I had a crush on him too. I can't believe I did that, felt that."

"You've never really talked about anything that happened. Not like this." Will's voice wavered slightly as he spoke."I've never pressed."

Dr. Wicker interjected saying that given everything that had been going on in her life at the time her reaction to Gate's attention was normal. His words mirrored Will's in their meaning but neither set made her feel any less disgusted with herself.

"I can still feel his mouth against mine. Rough, insistent and demanding. He held me in place with a hand on my back, another up my shirt. He said he wanted to feel me against him, that my skin was soft." Emma spat the word and lowered her head suddenly embarrassed.

"I kissed him back. I kissed him back so I could call Will." She removed her hand wiping frantically at tears while trying to ignore the unsuccessful attempts of the man next to her to remain composed.

"He forced me against a tree, pressed his body-"Emma broke away when she caught sight of Will shifting restlessly.

"I'm sorry." he choked out placing one hand on her shoulder in a reassuring squeeze as he stood up trying and failing to beat his tears to the door.

Emma got up to follow stopped by the sound of Dr. Wicker's voice telling her to let him go.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will leaned heavily against the wall just to the left of Dr. Wicker's office door staring at the ceiling his jaw and fists clenched while he struggled to reign in his emotions.

He felt like Emma. Unable to accurately identify what he was feeling the answer lying somewhere on the spectrum between anger over events he could not change and despair that they needed to be changed in the first place. Hastily he shifted his weight from foot to foot he couldn't afford to be standing on the sidelines while Emma discussed such an integral component of their relationship. Will drew in a ragged breath squaring his shoulders as he reached for the door jumping when the handle turned seconds before he touched it the door opening to let a worried Emma slip out.

"Hey." She started awkwardly still lightly gripping the doorknob in one hand.

"Hey." Will replied in kind. "I'm sorry about that. I thought I could handle it." He tried to smile but never felt it reach his lips.

"It's okay." Emma silenced him her voice caring and sympathetic, comforting. "Dr. Wicker wants me to contact the church he's working at back in Virginia. I don't know Will." She answered before he could question her eyes dropping to the floor in defeat. "I don't know if I want anyone to read them. It's embarrassing. I don't want people to think I was stupid or that I led him on."

"They're not going to think either of those things Emma. Trust me. You were young enough that you will not be held accountable for anything." He assured her.

Will pushed away from the wall moving so that he was inches away from her and gently snatched her hand up between one of his. "It's the right thing to do. He has access to children right now Em."

"I know." She whispered.

Watery eyes found his and she pulled her hand away dabbing at a stubborn tear with her index finger. "This is all so messed up Will. I feel like some huge chunk of my life, a time that I always looked back on with fondness has turned on me. I trusted him. I felt privileged to know him. His wife always looked so tired." Emma said her eyes clouding over."Not the kind of tired like she didn't get any sleep but that bone-deep tired that just permeates everything. I trusted him." She repeated again.

"I know." It was his turn to speak softly as he brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. "C'mere, it'll be okay." he abandoned his search for more adequate words in favor of wrapping his arms around her tightly and placing a kiss to the top of her head.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma stared at the tiny, light blue pill that rested in the palm of her hand. She was officially a TV commercial. Dr. Wicker had quizzed her about her experience on the Risperdal after Will had gone home and had decided to place her on Abilify. Emma wasn't sure why she had actually allowed herself to believe she might not be put on anything else. It was clear she needed something. Just in the time she had been off the of Risperdal her hand had started to lock up, an odd reaction Dr. Wicker billed as psychosomatic which only left Emma feeling more crazy. She had always thought psychosomatic symptoms were laughable and refused to believe him.

Throughout the stints in her life where she had been medicated she had always mindlessly taken them. The closest she had ever come to inquiring anything about how whatever they were giving her worked was on her most recent trip to the psych ward and that was only because of our knowledge of psychopharmacology.

All the knowledge in the world wasn't going to make this any easier. In fact, she wished she didn't have her psychology professors' voice floating throughout her mind saying how they thought the pills worked. The truth was they didn't know how they were going to work on a given person or even how they really worked in the brain and half the time they ended up being able to use one med for a variety of disorders hence the abundance of Prozac.

The medication worked on a neurotransmitter that was implicated in eating disorders for females and suicide for males. Nicknamed the "self-destructive" chemical Serotonin played a key role in many disorders. Prozac was the first class of Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor and like many of the medications in use was discovered by accident. Not many people knew that nine times out of ten what they were taking was developed for an entirely different reason. Viagra had been originally developed as a heart medication, Thorazine as a general antiseptic.

Sometimes Emma felt like she knew too much. For just a moment, just long enough to take the pill she wished she was operating with the working knowledge of the majority of the population.

"You have to take it." Will appeared at her side reaching into a cupboard for a glass and filling it with water.

"It's horrible to know that if I don't take this," Emma waved the pill in the air, "I will go insane. My brain will start firing too fast. I will get paranoid. The voice and OCD will get worse. I'm worried Will. I never used to care but now I know first-hand what this could do to me. I don't want to go through that again."

"Would you rather go through everything else?" He asked gently.

"Sometimes. At least when I'm manic, hypomanic, "She corrected, "I get things done. I'm productive. Taking this med will just…"Emma trailed off.

"Bring back down to the level of mere mortals?" Will questioned with a smile. "Really Em, when you're like that I feel like a snail."

"Really?" Emma asked creasing her brow in confusion. She had never thought of how someone else perceived her when she was hypomanic. "What am I like?"

"You're all over the place Emma. Literally. You can't sit still. You can't stay on focused on one topic when you speak and you clean everything. You shampooed the carpet twice in a week once." He grinned shaking his head. "That's not you Emma. This, this woman right here who can actually hold a conversation, this is you. Besides," Emma listened as he switched angles, "I know enough about Bipolar Type II now to know that there is a better chance you will become depressed if you stop taking meds. I don't think you realize just how bad you were when I took you in." He said softly. "It was bad Em. I don't want you to end up there again. So, take the pill and then we can go pretend to watch your movie and forget all about it. I don't know why you want to watch something scary." Will picked up the glass of water and handed it to her smiling as she tossed the pill into her mouth and took a drink.

* * *

**Will's POV**

His entire body was tense as he sat next to Emma on the couch everything in his immediate environment fading due to his proximity with her. She was pressed up against his side quietly watching the images he could no longer discern flicker across the TV. His shoulder had become her designated pillow the instant they had sat down her arms locked around one of his in a death grip their owner anticipating the scary moment the music was building to.

Will chuckled softly when she jumped and snuggled closer now half in his lap. Her head was buried in his chest, her fingers twisted in his shirt, the smell of strawberry shampoo overwhelming. Gently, with his free hand Will tucked some of her hair behind her ear and placed a small kiss on the expanse of skin the action afforded him. Emma shivered but didn't move.

He continued to place languid kisses down the side of her neck, up her jaw his face hovering inches from hers waiting for her to make the next move. Slowly her head turned and her lips parted silently asking for the kiss he was more than ready to give.

It had been a long time since they had done anything more than make out but Will wasn't going to push her especially with everything they had discussed today. Emma moaned softly into his mouth causing his eyes to slide closed as she moved to so that she was straddling him her tongue still tangled with his.

Her kisses were slow and loving as her hands slid underneath his shirt splaying out across his chest, fingernails trailing lightly across his skin leaving goose bumps in their wake. This time he was the one who moaned shifting downwards so that he was lying on his back, Emma stretched out on top of him, her lower half pressed delisciously against his. He forced himself to hold still despite the desperate urge to grind against her.

Carefully he brought his hands up to the top button on her shirt.

"Can I?" He whispered into her ear.

Earning a small nod of approval he slowly began undoing the buttons until he was able to slide her shirt off leaving her clad only in a white cotton bra. His heart broke as Emma froze the second his fingers graced the front of the material.

"You still don't see it." He murmured. "I'll keep telling you until you believe me Emma. You're beautiful."

He couldn't see her face but he knew she was blushing as his hands traveled down her sides coming to rest on her stomach. Emma's hand latched onto his wrist trying to move his hand somewhere else, somewhere that wasn't her stomach.

Despite constant reassurances that she wasn't getting fat she still had severe hang ups about certain portions of her body. They had significantly lessened throughout her treatment at Rivergroves however. Before she would have jumped off the couch or shut down completely. Still, he didn't like to make her too uncomfortable so he removed his hand cupping the side of her face.

"Someday you'll see it Em." He repeated a slightly altered variation on the words he had spoken to her that day in front of the mirror. "Until then you will just have to trust me."

He studied her body in the faint glow of light streaming into the room from the kitchen. This was the first time he had ever truly had the chance to look at her since she had started gaining weight. The difference was noticeable even to him. When he ran his hands over her shoulders her shoulder blades didn't stick into his palms and her collar bone was not as prominent as it once had been. Sliding his hands down her torso he noticed that he could no longer feel each individual rib. Will smiled as he initiated another kiss rejoicing in the tangible evidence that she was getting better. It still had her mind to some extent but she was regaining her body.

Will hadn't realized how long he had been staring but he knew it had cost them the mood when Emma reached across him for the shirt that lay discarded on the ground. Silently he helped her with the buttons sitting them both upright whispering that it was okay when she told him she was sorry.

He couldn't fathom how difficult this must be for her. The gentle motion of her hips against his as she had kissed him told him how badly she wanted this. Her problem with body image was strong enough to override one of the most primal of human behaviors. Desire and fear had warred in her eyes as he had unbuttoned her shirt the former winning out until he had taken too long examining her body.

If it was frustrating for him it must be maddening for her. He only wanted to show her how wonderful she was. Until that someday rolled around or she finally gave in to what she really wanted it was going to be stop and go he had a feeling.

"Will?" Emma asked quietly her breath crashing against his neck."We were supposed to make this list of things we are afraid of and read it to someone. I finally made mine. Can I read it to you?"

"Of course." Will settled against the back of the couch pulling Emma up to rest against his surprised when she didn't produce a piece of paper from somewhere but just started talking her voice slow and even like she had practiced.

"If I weren't afraid I would try and be that person I always wanted to be without holding myself back like I usually do. I would go back to school and get a Ph.D. in Psychology and work with people with eating disorders." Emma paused taking a breath. "I would write a book about what my struggle has been like even if no one bought it. I would burn those emails. I would let you make love to me." She spoke slowly the words reverberating in his mind until the next ones swallowed them up. "If I weren't afraid I would visit my mother's grave and read her the letter I wrote to her." Her voice trailed off as she grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch as though she were physically barricading herself off from her insecurities.

"What would you do if you weren't afraid Will?"

Will thought for a moment trying to find the right words.

"I would audition on Broadway." He laughed slightly. "I would show a dog and get to Westminster and not care that I was up against the professionals. I would speak out about eating disorders I think. Try to educate someone, anyone. I would make love to you." He purposefully saved his most personal confession for last.

"You're afraid to?" Emma turned to face him.

"Not so much afraid." Will ran his fingers through her hair. "More like hyper aware of making you uncomfortable. Sort of like what I just did a few minutes ago." He admitted softly.

"That's not your fault Will. Don't ever think that please. That day you talked to me in front of the mirror. That," Emma paused her mouth half-open with unspoken thoughts, "That was so crazy sweet. Crazy because I was having a crazy moment and sweet because it was so heartfelt, so believable."

"Telling the truth is pretty easy Em." Will raised his head depositing a chaste kiss on her lips. "You're all those things."

"I want you." Emma blurted her eyes widening giving away that she hadn't meant to speak out loud. "Oh gosh, I didn't mean to say that." Emma covered cried covering her face with her hands.

"It's okay. I want you too." Will felt a surge of gratitude towards all of the therapy Emma had been to, that he had been to that had gotten them used to talking.

Gently he placed his lips against hers his tongue pressing against her mouth moaning his thanks when Emma granted him access.

A soft thud sounded from the floor. Will peered over his shoulder to see Moritz sitting with his leash at his feet.

"I knew I was going to regret teaching him that." Will complained both to the dog and the woman on top of him. "Moritz if we had a dog house you'd be sleeping in it tonight."

"Just take him outside." Emma laughed. "It's better than the alternative."

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma sat on the corner of the cement porch watching Will walk in small circles with Moritz waiting for him to go potty. It had never occurred to her that Will was afraid of intimacy. She had always assumed he had held back because of her and indirectly, she supposed, it was because of her. Her fear. Not having much experience with men she had told herself long ago that Will probably was imagining everything they could be doing while taking things slow but his confession minutes earlier had blown that theory out of the water.

Grinning at Will's goofy antics when the dog finally decided to pee Emma thought back to her therapy session with Dr. Wicker, to how Will had walked out. Another thing she hadn't been aware of. It had been obvious for a long time to her that he blamed himself for that day in the park but she hadn't realized just how much it hurt him to hear about it. It had affected him today just much as it had her. Dr. Wicker was right. She did feel as though some sort of weight she hadn't known existed had been lifted from her shoulders. The only thing left was the emails still stashed away safely in a green folder waiting on her decision.

Gates had taken something from her even though he hadn't taken everything he could have. He had greatly bruised her trust and for that Emma was starting to despise him. The hatred was new and unsettling. Up until now she had gone from denial to a sort of indifferent acceptance. Now she wanted him out of her life. He never would truly be gone. Some of his advice she still lived by daily, unable to break the habit that had formed over so many years. It was still good advice. Good advice from a bad source. Bad sources were everywhere. As long as one was aware they were not reliable they couldn't be sucked in. Determined to continue her path towards being a healthy adult Emma stood up and marched back inside running up the stairs and across the apartment to her closet.

Underneath three shoe boxes full of high school memorabilia was the folder she was looking for. Her breathing slowed as she grabbed it sliding it out carefully like it might turn to dust in her hands.

"I trusted you." Emma's voice broke over the three words. "You fucking bastard. I trusted you."

Will's hand appeared on her shoulder this time the gentle squeeze became a hug as he pulled her against him.

"What are you doing?" He whispered against her skin.

"I need an envelope." Emma turned to face him catching the glint of understand in his eyes.

Together they went downstairs Emma never once loosening her vice-like grip on the folder that contained a section of her life she would always question. Will handed her a manila envelope that she addressed to her old church in Virginia. She didn't start talking until they were walking towards the city mailbox a few blocks away.

"If I hadn't stumbled across these," Emma held the folder up, "I would have remained completely clueless. I also wouldn't have experienced that day in the park but maybe it was worth it. If these emails help even one person not be taken advantage of by him then it was worth it although a small part of me is still in denial I think. How messed up is that?"

"Emma, he was a huge part of your life through your most influential years. Anybody would be trying to hang on to something like that. I would." He reasoned.

Walking the rest of the way in silence Emma came to a stop in front of the mailbox slowly pushing the envelope underneath the hinged door. She held her hand there for a while unwilling to let go suddenly doubting what she was doing.

"You've come this far." Will coaxed.

Emma squeezed her eyes closed tight and opened her hand relaxing only when she heard the package hit the bottom.

Opening her eyes she stepped backwards still facing the mailbox."You can't hurt me anymore." Emma told both the letters and Gates Will's hand finding hers as she turned her back on the friendship she had once held so dear.

"I'm proud of you." Will spoke softly into the evening air exchanging his grip on her hand for an arm about her waist. "What are you going to do when they come back? Dr. Wicker said they would be sent back."

Emma didn't need any time to think of her answer. "Burn them. I'm going to burn them."

* * *

A/N: Thoughts, please.


	38. Chapter 37

A/N: Happy Mother's Day all! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Seven **

**Emma's POV**

Emma stared out the window a cold mug of tea resting in one hand. Waking up at three in the morning was becoming an unwanted habit for her. Birds chirped happily, a facet of nature that would normally make her feel energized. Today it just annoyed her. She felt angry towards them for disturbing what should have been a tranquil moment.

Although she disliked the fatigue her early mornings brought her later in the day she had come to appreciate the few short hours before the sun rose. It was the only time when she felt like the world was put on hold, like nothing was expected of her, all her responsibilities hinging on the rising sun.

"Three in the morning again?" Will's voice wandered through the darkness accompanied by his soft foot falls as he came up behind her.

She jumped when his hand came to rest on her shoulder its gentle pressure bringing images of the night before when they had moved against each other his hands forging a path all their own across her body. She could still feel where his fingers had touched her, where his mouth had been warm and wet against her breast kissing and whispering away her insecurities.

Emma covered his hand with hers wanting just to touch him and leaned back as his arms encircled her waist. "I'm sorry did I wake you?"

"This has been happening ever since-"

"I know." Emma cut him off not wanting him to voice what she had already noticed. "I don't want to believe it's the med. It's relaxing. It gives me time to think."

"About?" Will questioned as he led them over to the couch.

"I'm scared." She admitted stretching out on top of him her upper half against his bare chest. "I still have the some of the same thoughts and I'm two days away from graduation. Well one day I guess now."

"I think the key word there is some." Will wrapped his arms around her again and pulled her close.

"I don't want any." Emma retorted listening to the sound of his steady pulse in her ear. "We have to do that shopping thing today. What if I'm the only one who gets nervous?"

Logically she knew the futility of her concern but that didn't lessen the validity of her fear. The shopping trip was what she had been dreading the most after she had made it through the first one. This time there were key differences. Instead of being partnered with Sophia she would be with Will and this excursion was going to be to a real store not a faux one set up on the unit with food containers convienently devoid of nutrition labels. Emma doubted even that activity would have been the success it had been if Sophia hadn't been there to distract her with her endless sarcasm.

The premise was the same. A large bowl with meals scribbled onto slips of paper would be drawn from to prevent someone from choosing a meal they felt safe about. They would all pile into vans with the exception of those who were not in the program and bombard the local Quality Foods a small mom and pop grocery store that had been working with Rivergroves for over ten years.

Emma was thankful they were not going to Wal-Mart and she suspected she would not be the only one. Every time she set foot inside one she was immediately overwhelmed, still subjected to a veritable sensory overload between the bright lights, hoards of people and ridiculous amounts of food. For someone unsure about buying a package of ham having forty-five choices and a whole half a store devoted to food only led to frustration and tears.

The entire exercise today was for both her and Will. A way of not only easing her discomfort with the process but also showing Will what he could do to help, what he should offer that help and when he should stand back. Emma envied his ability to be so nonchalant about everything.

"I don't think you are going to be the only one." He spoke reassuringly moving one hand up to tangle it in her hair. "They wouldn't orchestrate this whole thing if people didn't need it. Besides, more important than that, I get free food." Emma could hear his smile.

"That we have to cook." She reminded.

Some of the patients were preparing the meals on their own if they so chose but when faced with the two options Emma had gone for cooking with Will. Making a meal on her own was one of the things the disorder had yet to let her get a handle on not from lack of trying on her part.

A couple of nights ago Will had left her to her own devices for the evening due to parent-teacher conferences. Instead of him walking in the door to the smell of cooking food as she had planned he had been greeted by the sight of her crying at the kitchen table her face buried in her hands. Unable to make a decision without the aid of the recipe box they had been slowly weaning away from.

"And eat." Emma mumbled through the haze of thoughts that clouded her mind.

Oddly she wasn't as nervous about the eating as she was about the actual picking out of the food. Eating was by no means easy but it was considerably less foreign than shopping.

The last time she had gone shopping with Will she had wordlessly fished the keys out of his back pocket not twenty minutes after entering the store. Once in the car her rising panic had subsided as long as she hadn't thought about the aisles of food she had run away from and how pathetic that really was.

She had studied him hoping to gain insight into the process that one point in her life had only been complicated by her OCD and Mysophobia. Two things that she now knew were lurking beneath the surface in just such circumstances.

Will had purchased some grapes for old times' sake to have with their peanut butter and jelly. It really had been for old times' sake when she had been forced to scrub each grape clean before it could pass her lips. Emma still felt a twinge of fear when she thought about the unwashed blueberries he had tried to get her to eat.

A combination of her medication and therapy sessions were helping with the OCD. She was learning to stop the compulsion by forcing herself to not engage in it. The goal, eventually, was to have it click that her world would not fall apart around her if she didn't wash grapes or check doors. Emma felt like today's shopping trip was doing a commendable enough job of forecasting her own personal global destruction without the aid of obsessive-compulsive disorder.

"The sun's coming up." Will broke into her inner conversation. "You know I think I remember saying something about the indecency of getting up before dawn once when a particular someone woke me up with ice cubes." He chuckled against her the sound loud in her ear.

"Indirectly speaking of Virginia," he began again, "you're father called the other day. He misses you. Spring break is coming up. I thought maybe we could go and visit." Will paused for a beat grabbing her hand in his. "You could visit your mother's grave."

"I could read my letter." Emma looked up at Will. "Can we?"

She felt childish asking for something so plainly, letting him know how excited she was by the prospect. It went against her every instinct to stay neutral and leave the decision to him.

"I don't see why not." He answered softly as a beam of sun peeked through the blinds.

"Any barrel racing tournaments coming up?" He joked attempting to lighten the mood.

"I'm sure my dad would supply you with a tractor and-"Emma trailed off suddenly remembering that her home wouldn't be the way she pictured it anymore.

"We don't have to go to the farm."

"I want to." Emma sat up tugging at Will's arm so he would do the same. "I need to."

Her father had kept the farm place at the last minute unable to give it up still farming the land desperate for something to do. Every morning he drove out to feed the cats even if he had no other reason to be out there. From what he had told her the house still had some furnishings in case he had to stay the night due to bad weather. Last they had talked he had broke down and purchased twelve head of feeder cattle. His love of livestock and desire for something to occupy his mind winning out over what he had called common sense. Emma had always known it would only be a matter of time until animals made it back into his life.

"We need to get up." Will started to stand stopped by her hand on his chest.

"Five minutes." She asked.

"Five minutes." Will agreed easily obviously not intent on moving either placing a quick kiss on her cheek.

Their five minutes turned into fifteen when his single kiss multiplied and his mouth trailed its way to hers. The rest of the morning was spent scrambling around trying to beat the clock and avoid close encounters. Emma was having an increasingly difficult time keeping her hands to herself something that proposed a bit of a problem considering her hang ups about being completely naked in front of him but if numerous supposedly accidental caresses were any indication he was intent on working past them.

* * *

"Hey you!" Sophia poked Emma on the shoulder pulling her from the small amount of anxiety trickling into existence about the upcoming field trip. "What's up? Are you ready for the big day?" She asked excitedly clearly more prepared than Emma was for what was going to be taking place a day from now.

"We're graduating together? You were here before me." Emma questioned lightly aware she was probably treading into the topic of relapse.

"I had to extend my stay after my week-long abstinence from the real world. It was a bad time Emma, a really bad time. I wasn't confident in my eating abilities or myself after that so I made the decision to do some more therapy. I talked to her." Sophia imparted with trepidation and fear in her eyes as she barreled through Emma's exclamation of surprise. "Actually I read her that list I read to you while we were watching this movie and she was lying next to me eating popcorn and I just couldn't stand it anymore. I was sick of timing my popcorn raids with hers so our hands wouldn't touch and my body was so tense from trying not to fall asleep afraid I might wake up with my arms wrapped around her. I mean, "Sophia's eyes grew wide, "then what the hell would I have said?" Sophia laughed.

"Emma, "She whispered. "She feels the same way." Sophia's face broke into a wide grin. "All these years I never worked up the guts afraid she would turn tail and run for the hills and she was doing the same thing. That boy I was so distraught about, he finally got sick of all the time we were spending together. Chaaya didn't tell me but that was the reason he broke up with her. He told her she had better go after what she wanted or she would never be happy with her life. That was why she was so depressed." Sophia paused her face growing serious. "Thank you Emma. I never would have said anything, well, "She backtracked, "Maybe I would have eventually but I certainly never would have so soon. We're taking things slow but at least there is a thing to take. She even opened up to me about how hurt she felt when I walked out of her life, about how hard it was to act like it hadn't affected her and then she told me she loved me." Sophia wiped at the corner of one eye with her finger. "I always thought I would be the one who said that first in that way. She never ceases to amaze me." She giggled and before Emma had time to process all of the information she had just become privy to two arms were wrapped around her so tight she thought she was going to lose the ability to breathe.

"We have to stay in touch you know. We both live here in Lima and let's face it no one follows that phone number rule anyways." Sophia slipped a piece of paper to Emma glancing over her shoulder to make sure Cindy wasn't watching.

Emma smiled and pocketed the piece of paper. "On one condition; you have to bring Chaaya to our wedding in August. Wait, make that two conditions, one as of yet only a potential." Emma grinned. "Will you be my Maid of Honor?"

Sophia's mouth fell open slightly. "I can't believe you had to ask! Of course!" She paused. "You know no one knows it but I secretly enjoy dressing up. Although if your bridesmaid dresses look like something out of Rocky Horror or some shit I'm wearing my own." Sophia deadpanned with a glint in her eyes that showed she was serious. "Yes, you told me that story." She offered when Emma stared quizzically.

"I promise you won't hate them. You can even help me look." Emma smiled imagining her friend's antics in the confines of a bridal store.

"You haven't looked yet?" Sophia exclaimed in surprise, "August is like three months away!"

"I have." Emma leaned forward as if she was imparting a grave secret. "We agreed to wait until after I was done here to do any planning but then the month of August conversation rolled around one night and I decided that having five days left was close enough to being done. I have no idea what I'm doing though." Emma admitted. "You're the only friend I have who would be caught dead shopping for clothes. Sue would probably try to fashion a wedding dress out of a track suit and Shannon, well she is giving me enough crap for taking her spot as chaperone for Nationals. That's two weeks away!" Emma's eyes widened. "I totally forgot!"

"It's in New York right?" Sophia clarified smiling when Emma nodded. "That will be great! That's where I realized I was hopelessly in love with my best friend. Well actually it was while riding on a bus in New York but still. It's a great city, romantic. I'm sure Will has something special planned." She winked knowingly.

Emma blushed and ducked her head. "Maybe, I don't know. He refuses to talk about it which I guess probably means he has something up his sleeve."

"Ya think?" Sophia raised her eyebrows in emphasis to her dry remark. "That boy is probably figuring out how to lasso the moon, although, "She grinned maliciously. "He will have some pretty tough competition because I decided a long time ago that it belongs to my Chaaya."

"You know, "Emma stood up to throw away her tray. "For someone who claims to be so serious you sure have one sad case of hopeless romanticism."

Sophia only laughed shouting out that she wasn't much better before Dr. Wicker intercepted Emma's path congratulating her on her ninety-five percent for food eaten motioning her back into his office where Will was already waiting for what was going to be their last session.

* * *

"Emma," Dr. Wicker greeted warmly. "Jumping right in, how have things been going with the dog?"

During the previous session Will had come along to describe what he had witnessed taking place between her and Moritz. The whole time she had defended that she was only trying to keep the dog healthy. It had taken Dr. Wicker and some empathy training that had reversed the situation as if Will was restricting her food for her to realize what she was doing.

"I still think he looks heavy. I still get mad at him." Emma looked down wishing her answer was more acceptable.

"Have you cut his food back since we spoke last?" He questioned idly rolling a pencil along a section of his desk.

"No but Will has been watching me."

"Does that mean you would?" Dr. Wicker asked as though he were merely curious.

"I don't know what that means." She answered honestly. "I know he's not overweight but it's so easy for him to look that way which is weird because even when I see a heavy-set person I don't feel angry towards them the way I do Moritz."

Dr. Wicker stopped rolling his pencil and regarded her almost sympathetically. "They don't reflect on you. The dog does. When people see the dog they are seeing an extension of you and you don't want the image of being a lazy dog owner to be what they find."

"No I guess I don't." Emma agreed. "I never thought of it that way. Everything comes back to not being lazy doesn't it?" She asked no one and herself.

"Just keep working at it. Tell yourself he's not overweight. Walk away if you feel angry. It will get easier. As you know, "Dr. Wicker changed gears, "this will be out last session because of that conference I'm attending tomorrow. Do you have any concerns about the real world." He made air-quotes around her fear.

"Yes but I don't know where to start." Emma twirled her ring with her thumb.

"What about the wedding? Are you worried about that?" He questioned eying her engagement ring.

"No, well yes." She amended."I want to be able to eat a piece of my wedding cake and not care."

"I think," Dr. Wicker leaned forward with a smile, "that you will be so distracted that you won't even care if he shoves it in your face."

"No!" Emma exclaimed loudly her skin crawling at the idea of having cake all over her face. "I think I would care!"

"I'm worried about having to make meals on my own. That's really hard for me." Emma held her breath as she brought up the more serious topic.

"I'm glad you mentioned that. Will and I have talked about different things he can do to help your transition but we also have a support group here for people that are in all stages of recovery outside of treatment. I think it's important you attend this group Emma. Having people to talk to who are going through exactly what you are can be very beneficial. As Will told me just a little bit ago, he can only understand so much. He thinks it would be a good idea to."

"Recovered," Emma mumbled. "That sounds so strange. That word always seemed so far away like every time I got close it would move further down the road. I don't feel like I'm there now." She admitted quietly. "I know I'm recovered but I'm not perfect. The discussion we just had is evidence of that. I've chased after this idea for so long that it just seems impossible that I could actually have it."

"But you do have it Emma." Dr. Wicker spoke firmly sliding a pamphlet across his desk.

"It's once a week on Tuesday evenings here in the dining area. It's informal, relaxed. You basically sit and discuss whatever is on your mind and trust me sometimes it's not all about eating disorders. Last week everyone was a buzz about some TV show. It's more than worth considering."

Emma thought back to her psychology classes, how her professor had always told everyone the importance of getting a patient to go to at least one meeting.

"I'll give it a try." She promised slightly excited about having people in her situation to confide in. Sometimes it got tiring having to explain everything to Will.

"You're almost done Emma. One more day after this and you are out of here. I know you'll do great."He assured. "You're an amazing, strong, intelligent woman Emma. I'm not going to lie this will be difficult but I have faith in you. Don't take it personally, "he said standing up from his spot behind the desk," but I don't want to see you back here unless it's for group."

Emma watched as he walked out the door. She would see him one more time while receiving a certificate detailing her successful completion of their program before he would walk out of her life.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"Is that Emma?" A smooth, feminine voice startled him from his attempt to lip-read what Sophia and his fiancé were discussing so animatedly in the Wal-Mart parking lot. "Yes," turning around he found a tall, slender Indian woman her shoulder-length black hair swept away from her face by the ever present Midwestern wind. "I'm Will and you are?" Will held out his hand.

"Chaaya. I'm with that crazy Cuban over there that appears to be imparting some secret of national security. I do hope it's not about us." She grinned easily at him before heading in the direction of the group as they headed inside.

* * *

Watching Emma try to pick up items without looking at the nutrition facts was painful. Seeing the look of envy in her eyes when she glanced over at Sophia and Chaaya who appeared to be having no such trouble chatting amiably as their cart filled was more than painful.

He hadn't had the opportunity to really study her since the day she had fretted about purchasing ice cream. It still seemed impossible to him despite everything he knew about eating disorders that something so simple could be so hard. Today, just like before, her body language undermined any attempt she made to act like things were not affecting her.

She kept wringing her hands together as though she were drying them a beacon to Will that she was under severe distress. He frowned as she shifted nervously in front of the hamburger. When she leaned slightly to the left a tell-tale sign she was about to start pacing he intervened.

"Eighty-twenty is always a good choice." He whispered briefly placing his hand on her lower back before stepping away not drawing attention when she finally chose a package. Next up was the cheese. She wasn't catching any breaks in the unsafe department. She placed the meat next to the lettuce which she hadn't had any difficulty selecting her eyes found his.

"I hate this. I feel like everyone is staring at me, watching me stand here like an idiot afraid of a pound of hamburger. I can't even shop right…" Emma trailed off dejectedly staring at a packet of cheddar cheese.

"This is the last item." He reminded her careful to avoid encouraging her negative self-talk the way Cindy had suggested.

"I got this." Sophia's voice appeared out of nowhere.

He smiled as the woman marched determinedly up to Emma who was seemed to be on the verge of tears in front of the multitude of dairy products. Will chuckled as Sophia grabbed Emma by the arm and hauled her down the aisle a few feet pointing out that one must be very careful when selecting what kind of cheese to buy lest they want to be ingesting cardboard with the consistency of rubber.

Will liked Sophia. She was driven. The few times they had talked she had been reserved yet polite clearly unsure about opening up to strangers. Nothing like the woman that was all but thrusting a package of sliced cheese into Emma's arms with a pleased smile.

"Okay we're out!" Will kept his voice animated hoping to capitalize on the care-free moment Sophia had crafted as Emma placed the cheese in the cart next to the hamburger.

He had initially grabbed a basket figuring they wouldn't need a cart until Cindy had quietly explained that they did need to use one. He had been skeptical about her reasoning, that a cart would seem imposing in that it took up space and drew attention until he had seen the fear in Emma's eyes when he had returned with one.

Standing aside while she checked out wasn't easy either. He knew the importance of letting her do this on her own but that didn't stop him from wanting to rescue her. Emma seemed focused on her hands as she loaded their meager purchase onto the conveyor belt smiling nervously when the cashier asked if she found everything okay. She looked everywhere but at the woman scanning the groceries, her eyes finding the ground, the exit door and finally the small wad of money that had been bunched in her pocket. She grabbed the bags with lightning speed and was out the door before he had a chance to catch up her shoulders hunched as she tried to disappear from the situation she wanted so badly to be out of.

Preparing the meal hadn't been the disaster he had been expecting. Emma had been quite relaxed even making jokes with Sophia about things he probably didn't want to know. He and Chaaya were waiting at the table. The patients got the honor of serving their meals.

"I hear you two finally stopped dancing around each other." Will turned to face Chaaya a smile on his face.

"I hear you two finally got engaged." She retorted good-naturedly.

"Touche." Will replied deciding that teasing this woman didn't seem like something he would come out on top with.

"She looks wonderful." Chaaya commented nodding in the direction of Emma who was balancing a tray of tacos.

"Thank you. So does she." Will returned her gesture motioning to Sophia who beamed at them as she walked beside Emma.

Before Chaaya could respond Sophia's voice cut through the air demanding that they eat up. Will watched the other couple buoyed by the interaction of two people very much in love. Sophia grinned like an idiot every time she looked at Chaaya who would only shyly glance down at her plate with a whisper for her to stop. It was cute, refreshing and encouraging.

Emma smiled at him her face devoid of the warring emotions he had seen in the store. She looked happy and care-free and he hoped she was enjoying the moment. She always talked about how she wanted to sit with a group of people and just eat a meal. Waiting until Chaaya and Sophia were distracted he leaned over and whispered that he loved her just because he could before taking a bite of his taco.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

**One Day Later**

Ever since she had started the day program at Rivergroves Emma had longed for the day when she could return to a normal life. Now, as she sat at a lone table contemplating a simple white banner that read, "Congratulations" she realized that somewhere along the way group therapy, medication calls and meal time support had become her normal and that she was terrified of stepping back out into the real world.

It seemed so long ago that she had yelled at Will in the parking lot of McKinley High while blood had flowed freely from the cuts she had inflicted. There was no doubt in her mind now that he had done the right thing. Progress regarding her self-injury had been made in leaps and bounds. The occasional urge to cut would still manifest now and again in particularly stressful situations but Emma no longer saw the occurrence as proof that she wasn't better but rather she viewed it as a chance to prove that she was becoming a woman who could make healthy choices even when the bad ones seemed far more alluring.

Her self-esteem was still an issue. Three months and five days was not long enough to undo thirty-some years of degrading negative self-talk but at least now she was actively working towards seeing herself positively through comments here and there about her being a worthwhile individual.

Life for the first time since she could remember didn't seem a daunting and impossible task destined to be riddled with failure.

"Hey come on, they're waiting." Will stepped up beside her motioning to the doors that would lead to a small platform where Dr. Wicker would be standing a smile on his face as he would shake her hand and relay some snippet of wisdom.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this Will." Emma tried to pull back as he pushed her forward.

"You're ready." He whispered into her ear opening the door and slipping inside heading over to stand between Sue and Shannon. Sophia stood beside them a little closer than necessary to Chaaya. Emma smiled at her friend hoping she didn't let on to the fact that she had a pretty good guess as to why they were being so hands on.

The sound of Sophia's voice as she yelled something in Spanish propelled Emma into action and before she had time to think she was walking towards Dr. Wicker hoping she didn't trip and fall as she ascended the stairs.

This was a turning point in her life, one she wasn't sure she wanted to round. Taking that slip of paper felt like leaving an old friend. The eating disorder wasn't her friend but sometimes just because of how long it had been in her life it seemed like it was. It was what she knew and now she was going to be trying to live her life without it while it continued to knock at the door waiting to be let back in.

Dr. Wicker smiled and enveloped her in a bear hug announcing her name which caused a round of cheers to break out from those gathered to watch. Nervously Emma clutched at the speech all of them had been told to prepare, the one written to say good-bye to their eating disorder. Her words were not complex and it was not as long as some of the others that had been read but they were dear to her.

Taking a step closer to the microphone Emma spoke.

"Someday I'm going to have everything you took away from me. Someday my friends and family are going to be able to get to know the woman you took away from them. Someday the man I love is going to get to know the real me. I think, "Emma paused her throat constricting. "I think that my someday, the day where I start to see who I can be is already here. I think it started the day I realized that I wanted my life back."

As she walked across the rest of the stage the only thing that mattered was Will, the happy sad expression in his eyes that matched her own as he lent forward to whisper his congratulations not bothering to wait until she was down the stairs to envelope her in a bone-crushing hug before pulling away only to bring his mouth to hers his lips telling the tale of the tears that had trailed their way down his cheeks.

Both of them were oblivious to the ruckus of celebration around them as they kissed pouring their hearts into the promise of a life where order didn't come with a prefix.

* * *

A/N: No, the story is not done. Let me know what you think please!


	39. Chapter 38

A/N: This is the result of waking up at 3am and not falling back asleep. Enjoy, let me know what you think please!

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

**Emma's POV**

Emma scrubbed desperately at the handle on the passenger side door wanting to scream. If sitting in the parking lot of McKinley was this stressful she didn't want to go inside. They were early, Will's idea to make things go a bit more smoothly but his concern didn't mean anything to her OCD.

"Nothing bad will happen if I stop. Nothing bad will happen if I stop." Emma repeated with each swipe of the sanitary wipe managing to halt the action at five. "I'm sorry," she turned to face Will who was simply watching her with a small grin.

"Don't apologize. You stopped yourself." Will pointed out as though it were a milestone. Maybe it was.

"Yeah but last night I stopped myself at three." Emma replied dejectedly tucking the wipe into a side pocket of her purse to dispose of later.

"It's going to be a stressful day Em. Don't sweat it."

Relief washed over her at his words. He wasn't giving her permission to engage in OCD behaviors without trying to negate them but he was telling her that it was okay to mess up as long as she didn't fall too far from the tracks. It was almost impossible for her to tell herself that.

"Why are Sue and Shannon here?" Emma looked out at their cars parked side by side, an irony considering how they used to get along before her disorder had caused an unexpected friendship.

"They wanted to welcome you back." Will said excitedly opening his door and stepping out into the muggy morning air.

"First day back from a treatment program for someone with a mental disorder." Emma spoke loudly so he would hear. "You don't welcome someone back from that."

It was embarrassing that she was coming back to work after not only being treated for an eating disorder but also staying on a psychiatric ward. It felt as though she didn't have a valid reason for being gone and the fact that Sue and Shannon knew no matter how supportive they were only left her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"We are welcoming you back to your life." He clarified with a small smile walking around the car to open the door she hadn't picked a fight with yet.

Cautiously she stepped out of the car, her eyes finding his. "I do have one of those now huh? Will was about to respond when she cut him off. "Recovery, fiancé, wedding…" Emma let her words slip away into the relatively empty parking lot.

"What?" Will questioned as he locked the door behind her.

"Oh," Emma kept moving forward afraid to stop now that she had started. "I just never thought those words would be in my life either." She spoke more to herself than him refraining from listing the other more negative words that also fit the statement.

She managed to thwart her cleaning ritual at four once they reached the main doors. Emma was quickly learning that stopping the behavior was always easier than walking away from it. Once her feet started carrying her somewhere else it meant she couldn't go back. At least while she was still standing there, her hand hovering over the doorknob, it meant she could still resume the action. She would have to start over but the possibility of making it right was still there.

Everything about her life except Will felt fundamentally wrong. Eating breakfast with her tea felt like a mistake of apocalyptic proportions. Not only did it force her to start her day with the sick feeling of having her stomach expanded by food but it made her tea taste funny. Forcing herself to stop the OCD rituals that she had convinced herself were keeping her sane without the eating disorder felt so incredibly out of place that it made her imagine some shadowy figure stepping around the corner to tell her that she was messing up the only holds she had on life.

"Ginger! Welcome back to our little teenage mutant hell." Sue emphasized the latter part of her sentence as though she knew the discomfort Emma was feeling about anyone making a big deal out of her coming back.

Shannon rolled her eyes at the Cheerios coach and wrapped Emma in a huge hug whispering that she had been missed and confessing that she would never make a good guidance counselor.

Making their way to her office Emma came to an unexpected abrupt stop as soon as she stepped in the door. The last time she had been here she had yelled at Will because he had been threatening her grip on safety even though that grip had been seeping down her leg. He had spoken words they still hadn't really discussed mutually deciding it wasn't necessary although if she were truthful, they still hurt and someday she thought maybe she would bring them up along with the ones she had used against him.

With a deep breath she stepped through the doorway almost expecting to smell blood. She shook her head slightly in an attempt to get the argument between Will and her out of her mind as she sat down.

"So," Sue began taking a seat across the desk from Emma patting the one next to her for Shannon to do the same. "I hear there are wedding bells in our in the humid air." The glint in her eyes gave way true feelings. "I have the perfect blue track suit that could be fashioned into a dress you know. I mean something must be done to make him look presentable next to you." Will opened his mouth but let the jibe slide.

They continued to talk about everything but the reason she had been gone eventually diverting into groups. Will was perched on the corner of her desk speaking excitedly to Shannon of Moritz and his hope of competition distracted enough that Emma could take her and Sue's conversation on to topics she really wanted to get someone's opinion on.

"When will I stop feeling like a whale?" She questioned her hand over her stomach that seemed to be perpetually distended.

"When you have accepted what you are doing." Sue replied easily as though the change in subject were expected.

"I have-"Emma began only to but cut off by Sue's voice.

"I've been there Ginger. I know how your skin crawls every day you get out of bed and realize you actually have a stomach, how that feeling only gets worse after you eat. I know what it's like to not be able to sit still after a meal so you take a walk only to end up thinking about calories and how you could burn more if you ran like that successful person over there." Sue motioned to thin air with a general wave of her hand as she continued. I know what it's like to tell yourself you're only curious about the calorie count of this loaf of bread compared to that one. I know the worst part," Sue lowered her voice. "That horrible, restless sensation that you must find food, the one that makes you eat right after you just had a meal and then makes you wonder about the criteria for Binge Eating Disorder. I know what it's like to stare longingly at your safe food and for a fleeting moment as you grab the high calorie, unsafe whatever next to it, want it back. I know how dangerously alluring that idea is and" Sue whispered, "how it occupies more of your thoughts than you would ever tell anyone, including him." Sue didn't have to use a name for her to know what "him" she was referring to.

Emma sat with her mouth open shocked into silence by what Sue had just described. Everything she had said could have been ripped out of her recent life. After supper she would drag Will and Moritz on a walk under the pretense of exercising the dog when she really was thinking that burning one calorie was better than burning none. There was a jogger that always seemed to pass them. If glares could kill the man would have been dead a million times over Emma felt so threatened and enraged by his dedication to wellness. She would feel like a hypocrite out walking when he was running. Will was usually too distracted with the dog to pick up on that conflict.

Just this morning as Will had made toast with sugar and cinnamon, a college favorite of her mothers, she had gotten lost in thought remembering what her life had been like when she was listening for the ding of the microwave instead of the click of a toaster. There wasn't any oatmeal in the cupboard but the canister she had bought that night was still tucked safely in the closet. She checked it multiple times every day when Will was preoccupied with the dog or Nationals preparations. It made her feel safe and more than once she had caught herself promising it that she would come back before things got too far out of hand. Emma would close the door only to realize that things were too far out of hand back when she had lived on the stuff. It was tiresome to spend every minute of every day convincing herself that recovery was worth it even though deep down she knew it was.

Interactions between her and Will had been considerably less stressed and that was only in three months. Emma hadn't realized how much her eating disorder had dominated both of their lives until she had been eating a meal laughing whole-heartedly over a joke Will had told and looked over to find him almost ready to cry. She had finally worked up the guts to question him and he had softly admitted that at times he had wondered if they would ever be able to just share a normal meal. Thinking about all the times he had spent telling her she would be fine or gently pushing food in her direction and then finally ignoring her behavior under the direction of Dr. Wicker made her realize how stressful meals must have been for him to. Practically holding someone's hand while they ate and then being afraid they would throw up or have a panic attack would be overwhelming for anyone. Sometimes Emma didn't know how he had stuck by her so long.

"It's like talking to myself." Emma murmured quietly.

"In a way you are." Sue offered. "That's one of the reasons I stayed in the background for so long even though I knew what was going on. I didn't want to face the part of me I had almost convinced myself didn't exist. You've helped me a lot you know. I actually spoke out about eating disorder awareness at another high school. I didn't have the guts to do it here." Sue admitted sadly."But it was liberating. I could see the people who were suffering, it was right their plain as day in their eyes for anyone who knew what to look for. The problem is, "Sue sighed heavily. "No one knows what to look for unless they've been there."

"That's amazing Sue!" Emma congratulated the woman wondering if she too couldn't speak out about her ordeal deciding against it when she thought about an auditorium of eyes staring back at her.

"No, you're amazing." Sue looked directly at Emma with a smirk. "And that is something I don't ever tell anyone, except myself. So you had better believe it."

"Emma," Will called out from across the room. "First period is in eight minutes."

Throwing one last smile in Sue's direction Emma thanked everyone as Sue and Shannon filed out of her office leaving just the two of them.

Will walked over to her placing his hands on her shoulders. "You can do this Emma. No one knows. I told Figgins to tell anyone who asked that you were visiting your father. Only the Glee kids know and they wouldn't tell." He assured her with a smile."You'll be great."

"Thank you." Emma resisted the urge to tell him to stay as he disappeared around the corner.

* * *

Emma groaned inwardly at the knock on her door her dread instantly replaced with relief when she saw that it was Will.

To say that her first morning back had been stressful would have been an understatement. She had been fine when no one had been in the school but as soon as students had started trickling into her office she had wanted to run. Two girls had come in complaining about a boy who wouldn't stop bothering them which had eventually resulted in involving Figgins something she was always hesitant to do because the man could be so clueless. Finally they had brought in the boy's parents who were none too pleased with his behavior. Even though their anger hadn't been directed at her in any way she had still felt uncomfortable in the hostile environment and all that did was make the toast she had eaten earlier feel like lead in her stomach.

Paranoia lurked at the edges of her mind. With every student that walked in she wondered if they thought she looked fat. If they looked at her curiously or had a weird expression she assumed they were noticing the weight gain. One girl had commented that she looked really good, refreshed. After the girl left she had spent twenty minutes warring with herself over whether refreshed meant rested and healthy or fat.

Logically she knew people would notice the extra pounds. Someone couldn't go from ninety-two to their normal weight without it being noticeable. It was noticeable to her and that wasn't the disorder pointing things out.

When she shaved her legs the bones on her knees were easier to work around. If her hand brushed over her shoulder blade, something she wanted to stop but couldn't, she would cringe at the extra pressure no matter how minute that she had to use to feel the bone. Her collar bone didn't feel as prominent and her ribs weren't as visible. All of this she saw with clarity. It was other aspects that were tainted by the disorder.

She would wear longer skirts but refused to wear shorts convinced no one would want to look at her legs even though Will told her over and over that she didn't look fat. When she walked she felt like everyone could see her stomach through whatever shirt she was wearing and the idea she often over compensated by sucking her stomach in more than was needed. She tried not to touch her ribs when lying on her back but months of doing just that made it impossible and she would wince when she couldn't feel them as well. She thought her arms looked huge and although the warm air was perfect for tank tops she wouldn't wear them either. Once gain she wanted to hide in her clothes, a desire that left her conflicted. When she had weighed less than one hundred pounds she had been convinced she was fat. Now, Emma could see that she had been too thin but that didn't stop her from wanting that body back so she could wear shorts and tank tops. She felt she didn't have the right to wear such things with all the weight she had gained.

Bone checks had been a frequent occurrence at the height of her disorder and they had brought her comfort. Anymore she avoided putting her hands on her hips disgusted by how wide her hands had to be splayed to encompass her stomach. Sometimes she imagined herself pregnant to see if that would take away the discomfort. It never did but whether that was because it wouldn't matter why her stomach was larger or that she knew she wasn't pregnant she wasn't sure.

"What do you want for lunch?" Will asked picking up her bag he headed back to the door.

"I don't know." Emma fidgeted caught between feeling awkward that he was taking her home half way through the day and immense relief for just that reason.

"Well, think about it on the way home. We can pick something up or make something quick. I don't have much time." He wasn't going to make her decision.

Emma nodded mentally adding that the meal needed to be quick because he had to stick around to make sure she ate it and then wait to make sure she didn't throw it up all within his lunch hour. It didn't help that she was all too aware that he wouldn't be able to wait long enough and that if she really wanted to she could purge whatever she ate after he left but she wasn't dumb enough to think he didn't know that.

"Peanut butter and Jelly maybe." Emma defaulted into what had become a secondary safe meal despite the high fat content of peanut butter as they made their way through the throngs of students.

"Alright, what else?" He pressed pushing the main doors open and motioning her out into the sweltering sun.

"Grapes?" She questioned rather than told.

"How about something else?" Will casually let on that he knew what she was doing.

"I don't know Will." Emma mumbled to the ground.

"Tell you what. You chose the sandwich so I'll choose the rest. How's that?"

Emma knew he wasn't exactly compromising. He was ensuring in an indirect way that she didn't fall back into what had been her regular lunch because falling into that rut would mean a decrease in the number of foods she felt okay to eat which would ultimately lead her back to oatmeal. Again, Emma thought about how recovery wasn't supposed to be this hard.

"Sounds good." Emma responded with false cheerfulness climbing into the car hoping he didn't choose anything too unhealthy because her choice wasn't too high-ranking in that department.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Every time he ate Will thought about her question, about how he was able to eat with none of the conflict she had to contend with. It seemed so impossible that someone could forget how to do something so innate but the way she alternated between picking at her food and practically inhaling it reminded him that often the supposedly impossible was more achievable than that which everyone believed to be possible.

"Can I ask you a question?" He set his sandwich down careful to keep the contents within the slices of bread while he waited for her response.

"About what?" Emma asked somewhat cautiously causing him to momentarily feel bad about his curiosity.

"About the disorder, what it feels like to eat."

"It feels wrong Will." Emma's eyes found his hers wrought with emotion he couldn't name. "Everything about it feels wrong. The weight of this," Emma held up her sandwich, "in my hands, the way it tastes, smells and feels. Chewing feels foreign and the whole time, the whole time," She emphasized, "I'm thinking about how wrong it is, about how right oatmeal would be. I get self-conscious of those around me but all I can do is focus on my hands as they bring the food to my face. It's hard to explain," She paused clearly contemplating taking a bite of her sandwich. "It's like I develop tunnel vision but become hyperaware of my body, of what I'm doing and what others might be thinking. I'm inside and outside of myself at the same time I guess."

Will nodded trying to think of a time in his life when he had felt what she was talking about. The closest he could come to was the high school show choir competition where he had performed in street clothes. Every little move he had made had felt like it was under intense scrutiny from everyone in the room. If that was how Emma felt when she ate he couldn't believe she ever ate anything. It had been the worst feeling in the world.

He couldn't apply it to eating no matter how hard he tried. What Emma was describing only came about when one was forced to do something that made them uncomfortable. He had never felt uncomfortable when he ate. It was too natural, second nature.

"What about the voice?" He continued walking through the door he had opened.

"It's still there. It's not as bad or as loud or even as negative but it's definitely still there. I don't know if it will ever be gone. Even Sue still deals with hers and look how long she has been recovered. She said it continues to lessen over time but it never truly leaves. That scares me." Emma admitted more to her glass of water than to him.

He wasn't sure what to say. He had heard that in most cases the thoughts never leave the person alone always waiting just around the corner to pounce on them when a situation was proving to be too much, growing worse as the person's insecurity did the same.

She got reprieves. He had seen them first-hand. He wasn't naïve enough to think that the disorder couldn't intrude on those moments at any second however. There was just as much a chance those certain places where she felt care-free would remain untouched as there was they would become tainted. There was also a chance that one day the situations that got to her now would not bother her, like maybe one day she would be able sit at the table after she finished eating for longer than two seconds before her mind forced her to get up.

That had been her mode. She would eat relatively easily but succumb to a sort of restless panic after that would leave her pacing up and down the hall unaware of just how much she touched various parts of her body as she waited impatiently for him to get the dog ready so they could walk.

Her hands would stray to all of the areas that she used to check; stomach, hips, ribs, wrists and shoulder blades. He could always tell by her facial expression that they didn't bring the comfort that they had once afforded anymore.

The sound of running water slamming against a plate brought him back to the present. Emma was done and shifting nervously in the center of the kitchen her left hand pressed flat against her stomach sliding from hip bone to hip bone; checking. Her engagement ring was glinting in the light and for a moment from where he was sitting it almost appeared like she was touching her stomach as though pregnant. Will shook his head slightly. He really needed to stop those thoughts. Their starting a family was a long way down the road. They weren't even married yet.

"Hold on." Will said gently as he grabbed Moritz leash asking the dog to sit before clipping it to his collar a note of sympathy detectable even to him as he caught the pained expression on her face when her hand met her shoulder blade.

None of it was enough to make her stop eating although he was certain she still considered it by the way he would see her look at the cupboard that used to contain the oatmeal. He didn't think she was in danger of relapsing. She was just trudging her way through residual symptoms he prayed would go away with time.

* * *

"Are you sure you want it outdoors?" Will asked giving Emma one more chance to backtrack on the location of their wedding.

"Yes. I think I can handle it even if it is one hundred degrees. I don't want to get married in a church and besides that one park over on First Street is gorgeous, perfect."

Will smiled tossing Moritz his second treat on their two-block walk gradually weaning him off of the bribes to stay at his side, switching to verbal praise and the occasional pat on the side. "Okay then, outdoors it is."

"I'm so nervous and excited all at once!" Emma reached down and patted the dog on the head not noticing Will's grimace.

It wasn't well known to the average person but dogs really didn't like being patted directly on the head. They would lower their head to avoid the hand and squint their eyes. The most noticeable cue to Will was the tongue-flicking that always meant they were stressed about what was going on. He didn't have the heart to correct Emma elated that she would even pet the dog outside of the group training sessions he insisted on so the dog would listen to both of them and not just him.

"I know the feeling." Will agreed.

Emma stopped walking suddenly her eyes locked on his. "Will, I don't want to be nervous on our wedding night." She admitted softly.

He waited for her to explain unsure of where she was heading.

"I mean…I want to know what to do. I want it to be good for you…" Emma trailed off finding the ground much easier to look at than him as her words became more personal.

"Don't worry about that. I'll be great. What are you saying though?" He stepped closer not wanting passerby to catch their conversation.

"I'm saying that if something happens, if we…I'm saying that I'm not opposed to before if the moment feels right." As if remembering her earlier comment she added, "I can't live by my mother's rules forever."

"Em, we can wait. It's okay." He assured softly.

"No, it's not Will. I want to know what to expect." She whispered.

He wanted to agree with her. He wanted to be the stereotypical guy and jump for joy at her words and what they meant but he couldn't. Deep down he knew it was still important to her that they wait. He had a feeling she was changing what she wanted because of him.

"Okay, I'll tell you what. Remember that night I told you to ask me if you had any questions?" Emma nodded still staring at the ground. "That offer still stands. I'm not saying we can't do anything Em. We can…experiment." The word tripped off his tongue decidedly out of place in the context he was using it.

"I'm serious Will," Emma glanced up at him and back down. "If something happens and we do, then that's okay."

Will sighed unsure how to take what she was saying. "What changed your mind?"

"I just…I don't know. I don't want to be nervous." Emma repeated leaving him to ascertain that she was really doing this because of nerves.

"I'll compromise okay. There are plenty of things we can do that don't involve going all the way. Get used to that first and we'll go from there alright?" It was clear she meant what she was saying so he wasn't sure why he was still bulking. It wasn't like he didn't want to.

"Deal." Emma grinned shyly at him poking him in the shoulder.

"When do we start?" She asked somewhat playfully.

"You sound like you're talking about a class." Will laughed as she told him that in a way it was a class and they had already established that he was a good teacher. He was never going to live that one down.

"School is off limits." Will joked moments later realizing his mistake.

Emma instantly sobered her eyes flickering to his shoulder than the sidewalk as she abruptly knelt to distract herself with the dog clearly trying not to cry.

"Em, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." He tried to fix what he had brought up.

As much as they could they avoided discussing her Bipolar and what it was capable of doing to her. The one night they had talked about it she had admitted to feeling so much shame when she thought of how she had acted that she would often physically move to try and stop the memories.

At the time she had been manic and unaware. He had been too caught up in staring a relationship with her to really question what they were doing something that he regretted now. That was the problem with hindsight. It always operated with all the information while the decision made that came to be regretted later only operated with half.

"It's okay."She stood sniffling slightly. "I can't avoid talking about it forever, the disorder that is." Emma took a deep breath. "Since we are discussing everything else, is there anything you want to ask?"

He thought about declining even though he had questions to save her the turmoil of answering them but she was offering and he had learned go along with what she wanted to talk about in case denying her closed the topic off for good.

"When you are…manic," Will started slowly still unsure, "can I say anything?"

So far she had been remaining relatively even but from what he had read about Bipolar in general even when medicated someone was susceptible to the mood swings. He wanted to know if it was okay to point them out if he saw them.

"That will be awkward but yes. I never know." Emma nodded for him to continue.

"What if I think you need to see someone if the meds stop working or something? He stopped walking and turned to face her wanting to be able to read her body language as well as hear her answer.

"Then take me to see someone. I can tell you right now that I will probably hate you. If I'm depressed I will be offended and if I'm manic, well then I will just feel so on top of the world I won't want it to go away." Emma concluded.

"Thank you for being honest." Will tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and grabbed her hand content to let the subject drop for now.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

The days after her first had gradually become easier to handle and Emma had found herself actually looking forward to staying a full day instead of Will taking her home halfway through. The students always had questions about her father leaving Emma to wonder just how fast information whether true or fabricated traveled around the school but she had been able to answer them with no difficulty.

Lunches at the school had been an issue to begin with when she had found out that despite everything she still felt nervous when students passed her office. Will had solved this and gotten her outside of herself by moving to the choir room and inviting Sue and Shannon. Some of their conversations left her laughing so hard she almost forgot she was eating, moments she treasured.

It was eight o'clock in the evening and her suitcase was strewn about her. Crap luck had meant that Spring Break landed right before Nationals but Will was confident in the kids and had decided to go along with their trip to Virginia. Emma was certain the kids had played a healthy role in his decision probably threatening to pack his suitcase for him. Will's absence from rehearsals before Sectionals had turned out to be blessing and the group was more confident than ever.

"I definitely think you should take this." Will's voice carried across the room in his hands was a summer dress with varying shades of green and blues mixed together at times almost tricking the mind into thinking it was seeing a flower.

It had been a gift from her mother years ago and she had shoved it to the back of her closet after her death. Will didn't know any of that but the look on his face as he regarded it had her asking him to toss it over. She had practically grown up in summer dresses as a girl. It was going to feel weird to wear one again.

"Only for you." She smiled and carefully folded the garment.

"I'm going to go grab a blanket." Will called out through a laugh disappearing before she could stop him.

Emma jumped up racing down the hall arriving at the linen closet door moments too late. The bloodied rag she had hidden the morning he had taken her to the hospital rest in his hands. Emma cowered against the wall not sure what to expect damning herself for not remembering to dispose of it.

"And oatmeal." Will kept his voice even as he pulled out the canister she still couldn't toss.

"Emma," he began clearly not knowing how to continue.

"It's old." She pointed to the towel. "From that day."

"Dried blood looks like dried blood no matter how old it is Em." He said carefully his eyes riveted on hers.

"Have you?" He questioned lightly never moving.

"No!" Emma went to grab the towel but he placed his hand behind his back.

"Can I see? I wouldn't ask if there wasn't so much blood Em." He tried to assure her stepping closer.

She weighed her options. She could tell him no but that wouldn't get her anywhere other than him doubting that she had told the truth. She wasn't angry at him for wanting to check. What he had said made sense. There was a lot of blood.

Wordlessly she turned toward the bedroom Will following items still in hand. She closed the door although wasn't sure why as she took off her pants feeling awkward like a teenager caught red-handed for something they knew they shouldn't have been doing.

She slid them down as Will watched noticeably just as ill at ease about the whole process as she was. She couldn't stop her hand from covering her thigh seconds after his eyes had landed there.

"Don't do that." Will lowered himself in front of her placing gentle kisses along each scar. "You're beautiful. Don't hide." Slowly he kissed his way back down before standing up and pulling her over to the bed.

Emma smiled as he deposited soft kisses along her body spending extra time in the places she was the most insecure about. Sometimes, in moments like this when his mouth and hands wandered over her body as though he worshipped her she could almost believe him.

* * *

A/N: A lot of talking I know but I feel it's important things for them to discuss. Thoughts?


	40. Chapter 39

A/N: I've been piecing this one together for a couple days now. Thank you to the reviewer who suggested the song you will find referenced! I'm posting this quickly before I leave for a week so I didn't have an exceptionally long time to proof read. Let me know what you think. I'm kinda nervous about posting.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

**Emma's POV**

The new house felt wrong.

From the moment they had walked through the front door Moritz straining at his leash to greet her father despite Will's attempts to get him to sit it had felt wrong.

It was nice enough, located in a small residential area roughly two miles from town that seemed to be overrun by kids due to the elementary school less than a mile away.

Her father disliked stairs so it was surprised her when she had opened the door to find two sets; one that went up and another that went down. The carpet leading upstairs was beige continuing all the way through a corner hallway that funneled into two bedrooms and a bathroom. The smaller of the bedrooms, square in shape with plaster walls and an almost puke-green short carpet she had learned was to be where they would be staying. A peek into the other room revealed more plaster walls and an obnoxious red-orange carpeting. Her father had only shrugged and said he was already used to such inconsistencies. Horrible carpeting seemed to follow him wherever he went.

The kitchen although functional was pitiful in size compared the one out on the farm. Oblong in design it opened up to allow just enough room for the table that had been at the old house sans leaves. There was hardly room for two people near the stove. As it was if she and Will were to stand back to back they could both reach a counter top.

What Emma missed the most was the window above the sink. The way this house was set up had there been one whoever was in the bathroom would have gotten a rude surprise. Back on the farm, as a girl, she used to watch the sunrise standing on her father's knee as he sat in his chair with his coffee his hands protectively about her waist while he counted the cattle.

The basement extended the entire house, unfinished, the previous owners having torn the carpet up because of cats. Carpet scraps, some the same tacky blue carpet that had been upstairs in the farmhouse already lined the walls, waiting. Her father unable to part with the memories trapped between its fibers.

"Well," Her father motioned grandly with his arms. "There you have it. The not so grand tour! I didn't want anything fancy." He said as though defending his choice. "Now, he continued before Emma could assure him the house was fine. "I hear congratulations are in order! Let me see that ring. I haven't seen that diamond in over twenty years I bet."

"What?" Emma questioned in confusion as Will smiled and pretended to study the floor.

"You mean he didn't tell you? This here diamond," Her father pointed to her raised hand, "was on your mother's engagement ring. Will asked me for the ring one night while you were sleeping. Clever guy." The older man grinned at her fiancé.

"I knew you wanted silver." Will explained. "So I had them take the diamond out and put it in this one."

"Will!" Emma exclaimed tears welling in her eyes as she regarded her ring with a new sense of appreciation. " I-I can't believe I didn't recognize it."

"I can tweedybug." Her father cut in. "She used to take that thing off all the time around the house always afraid she would damage it." He patted Will on the shoulder. "You did good son. Lynette would be proud."

"Perhaps," Emma jabbed her father playfully in the rips causing him to double over slightly with laughter, "you should have done the same."

At Will's questioning glance her father explained.

"I once forgot to take my wedding band off while welding. Melted the thing, had to have it cut off. Her mother, you can imagine, never let me live that down. I swear damn near everyone in this state knows that story." He chuckled warmly shaking his head.

"Well, I don't think he will be welding anytime soon dad." Emma laughed at Will's expression.

"Hey" Will pretended to pout. "That's not fair!"

"Son," Dave managed to squeeze out around his own laughter, "I've heard the stories. And I reckon she's right. Stick to the singing and dancing."

Will looked down with a blush shooting a good-natured glare in Emma's direction as her father turned to head upstairs so they could eat. "Thanks, Em."He whispered from behind her on the stairs.

Emma ripped at the napkin that rest in her lap leaving tiny shreds of paper across her dress feeling guilty about being so self-conscious around her own father, guilty for the unbridled anxiety that was taking up residence in her stomach as food materialized in front of her and Will.

Having forgone his usual tradition or getting her KFC no doubt to the reaction it had evoked the last time simultaneously made her feel worse and appreciative. Worse because this time the restaurant was only a couple miles away instead of over ten, appreciative because she really didn't want to be anywhere near the greasy chicken.

As she took a bit of the fluffy buttermilk that encompassed her entire plate she forced a smile for her dad's sake. He was trying his best to not act nervous but the way his eyes flickered from her to Will and the platter of pancakes gave him away and left her projecting what she thought he was thinking onto him instead of asking. Not that she would ask.

There existed absolutely no logic, sound or otherwise to explain why she was so uptight about him watching her eat. She had no such problems with Will anymore, at least not since she had been in the early stages of recovery. Emma felt like a hypocrite, like she should stand on the rooftop and declare that she had never really had an eating disorder, that it had all been an elaborate joke. No matter what angle she approached her irrational thought from she couldn't work it out. It made absolutely no sense and it was unsettling.

She listened as her father and Will talked about dogs and farming not bothered in the least that her fiancé didn't try to draw her into the conversation. She was a bit lost in herself too troubled by her conflicting inner rationale to focus on much of anything but the texture of the pancake in her mouth.

It bothered her slightly that she didn't use as much syrup as she normally would having caught the calorie count on the bottle when she went to pick it up. Months ago Emma would have let the incident slide but it angered her this time and she snatched the container up pouring a heaping amount of the gooey substance directly onto her pancake, something she never did, earning one curious look and one brilliant smile.

It was that smile that got her to eat the entire thing despite the nearly quadrupled serving size she had used. She had to admit as she chewed that it tasted good. It tasted like rebellion, a kick in the face to the disorder that had seconds before tried to thwart her attempt to enjoy a meal with her family.

What started out as forcing herself to join in on the conversation quickly became actively engaged in it laughing hysterically at the story her father had never told her about taking a community college class to get their motorcycle licenses the summer before her mother gave birth to her. They hadn't known she was pregnant and the lip balm her mother had used one night before the class had caused an allergic reaction leaving her lips swollen and blistered. Emma got lost in the moment forgetting about the pancake she was eating as her father went on to say that somewhere there was an award her mother received for the most traffic cones killed during the course.

She hadn't heard the next story either. As a college student her mom and a group of friends had gotten beyond wasted and everyone had been ordered to spend the night the group not having a designated driver.

Jim, one of her mother's friends had gotten up during the night and drove home. He was fine but the gang was furious and her mom, she learned, could be quite the practical joker. They had waited three months and had her call Jim up putting on a Midwestern accent to tell him that he would be a daddy. They had then let the poor man believe it for three weeks. He still wasn't married, something the group still joked about.

She made her way through her second pancake listening to how her father and her mother had started a snowball fight in doors on a vacation to visit one of the gang in Nebraska. They had made snowballs, carried them inside in a paper bag so they would resemble beer and placed them in the freezer only to pull them out after everyone was hammered. Emma had winced at the thought of the mess but laughed none the less.

She volunteered her and Will to do the dishes knowing her father always liked his after dinner nap something he had done since childhood although the length of time he slept had increased drastically in his old age.

"You seemed relaxed." Will said easily rinsing his plate under the warm water and handing it to Emma.

"I was. I had never heard that story. How many stories have I not heard? There's so much I don't know about her. So much she never had the chance to tell me. Let's go to the farm." Emma decided impulsively turning to face Will.

Will didn't question her sudden announcement agreeing with a nod of his head. "Okay, but we're taking Moritz. He's never got to run in an open space like that. Have ya bud?" Will looked down at the dog that was standing right between them now nearly to Emma's knee.

* * *

**Will's POV**

She looked beautiful walking towards him throwing her hair up into a messy pony tail the sun cascading down upon her making the dress he had asked her to bring the night before seem to glow.

He let the dog out watching with satisfaction as he tore off after the nearest cat, grabbing a small cooler of sun tea and the blanket that had been the cause of their minor drama last night only to bring about a sweet and tender moment.

They walked unhurriedly out into a grassy meadow just beyond the house laughing at Moritz and his unsuccessful attempts to corner a particularly agile cat. Will was content to let him run trusting the retriever enough not to wander off allowing himself the luxury of devoting all his attention to the woman at his side her hair coming loose ponytail she had redone twice in the past thirty minutes.

"Here good?" He asked motioning to the ground with the cooler.

Emma nodded and he unceremoniously dropped the blanket and cooler to the ground and picked Emma up twirling in circles taking delight in the surprised squeak she let out.

"Put me down!" She demanded trying unsuccessfully to kick him.

"Hold on." Will laughed attempting to spread the blanket out with his foot before gently letting her slide down his body smiling into her mischievious eyes as she turned and took off across the pasture weaving a random path through the waist high grass her laughter echoing across the golden countryside.

He caught up to her easily enough wrapping his arms around her waist. "Caught you." He whispered against the back of her neck as she struggled to get free.

Giving up Emma turned to face him her chest heaving from the excursion. "What are you expecting? A kiss?"She questioned smiling up at him, her eyes bright.

"A boy can dream, dream, dream." Will sang softly leaning in and stealing his kiss anyways.

"Is your dream the same as his?" She asked playfully batting her eyelashes.

"I'd be lying if I said it didn't sound nice." He smiled as the chorus of one of many songs she had subjected him to on the drive down from the album he had bought her played through his head.

"Dream, dream, dream." Emma agreed. "Not in dad's house."

"In case you haven't noticed. We're not in your dad's house." Will murmured going in for another kiss gently grabbing her hand to lead her back to the blanket. Carefully he set her down his mouth staying on hers until she pushed him away with an exasperated sigh messing with her hair that simply refused to stay pulled back.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma gave up her futile battle with Mother Nature and pulled her hair out of the pony tail the wind was seconds away from destroying letting it blow across her face as she took a sip of her sun tea.

"That's better." Reaching over Will ran his fingers through her rapidly tangling hair.

"You're not the one who has to brush it." Emma informed him with a groan.

"I would." Will smiled.

"I'm holding you to that." Emma laughed stretching out on her side so that she was facing Will allowing her eyes to roam his body before settling on his face.

A gust of wind blew again causing the tree above them to sway leaving speckles of sunlight dancing across their bodies as Will leaned forward and captured her mouth in a tender kiss bringing one hand up to cup her chin before letting it slide to her shoulder.

Emma shuddered in anticipation when his fingers trailed up and down her neck and finally over the fabric between her breasts. There were outdoors separated from the grass and dirt and all it contained by a single blanket, she should be nervous but all she wanted was for Will to keep touching her. Slowly she began to undo the tie at the back of her dress praying she didn't create a knot relieved when the top half fell away revealing her chest.

"Em?" Will questioned softly pulling away his voice thick with desire despite his actions.

"Don't stop." Emma whispered softly her plea almost carried away with the wind that howled in her ears.

Smiling Will scooted closer bringing his mouth down on her collar bone his tongue leaving goose bumps as it tickled her skin. She gasped when he moved to one exposed nipple sucking gently until she couldn't hold still anymore her hips involuntarily rising up in search of friction, the blanket clenched tightly between her fingers as small moans she didn't even try to stop spilled forth.

Soon his mouth was over her other breast repeating his earlier actions leaving Emma tingling in dangerous places her hands still remaining at her sides. She shuddered again when his kisses began to forge a trail between her breasts and down her stomach until they met the fabric Emma was surprised to find she was regretting not removing.

"Wait." She said softly releasing the blanket from its death grip pushing him away a few inches away so she could sit up.

Will said nothing as she removed the rest of her dress folding it neatly and placing it on a corner of the blanket, nervous under his intense gaze.

"Do you trust me?" He asked caressing her chin with the back of his hand.

Emma nodded allowing Will to help her stand as he balled up the blanket and walked them out from underneath the protection of the tree. She had never stood outside in her bra and underwear before and although she knew no one was around she still felt exposed but she followed, trusting him.

Quickly he spread the blanket out walking over it methodically to flatten the grass beneath it the light blue material seeming to come alive in the sunlight.

He sat down extending his hand for her to do the same with an appreciate smile as though he were regarding a valued piece of artwork. Blushing she started to move one hand up to cover her body before she stopped reminding herself that it was only Will who was staring at her so intently and no one else.

"You look like one of those girls you hear about but never see in real life." He murmured pulling her down on top of him and rolling them so that she was underneath. "Like a dream, my dream." Emma grinned against him deciding not to call him out on his shameless stealing of lyrics.

He resumed his trail of kisses this time getting all the way to her hips before making his way back up to her ear. "Tell me to stop and I will." He whispered his breath hot against her skin.

His mouth returned to her body and Emma tensed slightly as he made his way lower then he had ever done before stopping just at the waist line of her panties his eyes meaningful and questioning. Emma nodded and quickly closed her eyes against the feeling of his lips moving over her panties opening them in relief when she realized he wasn't going to take them off.

She felt his hands come to rest on her hips while his mouth strayed to her inner thigh leaving delicate kisses before moving higher. He paused hovering over her his lips inches from her center silently asking her one more time. Her nod turned to a moan when his mouth closed over her his tongue pressing down. Involuntarily she raised her hips searching for friction. Will chuckled against her his hands tightening, holding her down as he added more pressure. She could feel herself growing wetter under his ministrations. She was almost completely lost in what was happening, almost.

In a part of her mind that shouldn't be functioning it dawned on her what she was doing, what he was doing and the thought of his mouth full of germs so close to a place full of its own germs gave way to panic.

"Will stop!"

Will sat back abruptly an apologetic and fearful expression on his face.

Emma felt betrayed by her Mysophobia. It didn't make sense that germs would bother her right now. She had let him pour ice cream on her body. Granted his mouth had never been where it had been seconds ago but she should have gotten lost in the sensations he had been evoking and not cared. She felt horrible, ashamed.

"I'm sorry…germs." She offered weakly able to tell by the relief on his face that he thought she had stopped him for another reason.

"It's okay." He crawled towards her grabbing the water bottle he had dropped by her side and taking a sip swirling the water before spitting it out.

She only watched him touched by his small gesture, his trying to get clean the only way he could. Logically she knew he really wasn't dirty that his mouth had been against her underwear and not her. Emma felt torn. She could still feel where his mouth had been the wind cool on the material damp from both him and her desire.

Deciding that she really couldn't embarrass herself any further Emma started to talk watching the blades of grass wave in the wind hoping that by trying to explain how she was feeling to him she could understand it herself.

"I want you to. Really I do. It's just, it doesn't make sense Will. I've let you do things before and well your mouth has never been…there but I've thought about it." She blushed abandoning her idea to try and look him in the eye. "I've thought about it a lot so I don't understand why I freaked out." Emma sighed realizing clarity, if there was going to be any, was going to come from him.

"Well, look at it this way. Although your OCD and Mysophobia are worse right now I can garuntee you that a few months ago you would have never let me do that. That was progress Em." He smiled warmly squinting against the sun.

"I wish I could let you kiss me right now. Then I could at least feel like my disorders haven't ruined everything." Emma tried to stop the shudder at the thought of his mouth moving against hers, his tongue full of germs from her own body sliding between her lips.

"How about a kiss on the cheek?" He offered with eyes full of nothing but understanding and acceptance.

Emma thought for a moment. "Maybe. You can try?" She grimaced when her declaration came out as a question.

Before she had time to prepare herself Will leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek for the briefest of seconds pulling away almost before she registered they had been there.

"There," he grinned. "And you haven't ruined anything Emma. Taking things slow just makes it all so much better when stuff finally does happen. I can tell you not to feel embarrassed if you ask me to stop but I know you will be but please no matter how it makes you feel always speak up. I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with and what we just tried… I wasn't planning on going all the way just so you know, if that helps." Will trailed off slightly before he continued." I wasn't sure how far I was going to get but I wasn't going to take your underwear off." He admitted with a blush looking as though he hadn't been meaning to voice his intentions.

"That does make me feel better actually. I don't feel like I disappointed you as much." Emma said finally looking up at him.

"You could never disappoint me." He assured her his hand coming up to run through her hair stopped by a sea of wind-generated tangles. "I see what you mean." He chuckled trying unsuccessfully to work one of them free. "It's sexy though. I'm serious I'd brush your hair every day it was windy if you wore it down."

Emma ducked her head letting the knotted mass create a curtain around her face deciding that she wasn't going to need all of the pony tail holders she had packed.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will was beginning to realize why women wore their hair up in the wind. He had been brushing Emma's hair for what felt like forever and hadn't gotten anywhere. Being terrified of hurting her wasn't helping matters any.

They had come back to town without going inside the farmhouse. He had asked Emma as they made their way back to the car knowing that it was something she wanted to do but she had said she wanted to wait, that she wasn't ready just yet.

He couldn't blame her. The place looked almost abandoned to him and that was from the outside. He couldn't imagine what it looked like on the inside or what it would be like for her to be there.

He had caught her almost ready to cry delicately caressing a Tiger Lilly that he had learned moments later that her mother had planted. According to Emma it was one of the few plants she had been able to keep up.

Though there were animals, the stray cats roamed in abundance and the cattle provided an almost constant cacophony of noises, the farm place still felt undeniably empty. It was odd seeing all of the machinery where it had been the last time he had been there. There had been a worn paper towel sitting on the four wheeler seat still covered in red paint from the barn that Emma had scoffed at and thrown away saying that her father had a horrible habit of using the towels until they were ready to fall apart. He had been known to let them dry overnight so he could reuse them the next day. That paper towel had looked so natural sitting there. Neatly spread out with care like someone had just up and walked off the place in the middle of the day and forgot to come back.

The paw prints from her father's boyhood Rat Terrier in the cement of the barn were what got to him. That's when it sunk in that Dave was having to let go of the place where he had not only grown up but raised his family as well. In that moment, staring at the concrete memory Will had understood completely why he had been unable to sell.

The older man was lost. Will could see it in his eyes, an aged, worn-out desperation that only afflicted those hit with something they never expected to have to deal with. Running out to feed the cats every morning and taking care of his cattle were what kept him from succumbing to the grief-riddled depression that had finally caught up with Emma. Will hoped Lynette knew how terribly important she was to her family, how much they missed her.

Emma, if he ignored the brief bout of tears when they had turned down the lane was doing surprisingly well. Parts of the woman he had seen their last trip to Virginia were peeking through. She was smiling more, a care-free, effortless smile that lit up her entire face. Even her laughter seemed fuller.

She was dressing differently too. He wasn't sure when she had gone back and substituted the clothes he had caught her unpacking earlier in the day but he was glad she did. Everything had been warm, light and spring-like. More than one summer dress was currently hanging in the closet and her Mary Jane's had been forgone for sandals and flip flops. There was even a pair of shorts although she hadn't unpacked those. The tops varied ranging from loose and billowy short-sleeved blouses to tank tops. When she had stepped out of the room moments after he had walked out clad in the summer dress he had asked her to bring she had taken his breath away. She had looked radiant and comfortable with herself twirling around for him to get the full effect of the outfit.

So far it seemed with the exception of her nervousness over things he wasn't sure of at lunch she seemed to be reverting back into the woman he so desperately wanted to get to know. With any luck he would get that chance within the next six days and with more luck that woman would come back with him to Ohio.

"Will, you're not going to hurt me. Give me that!" Emma snatched the brush away from him dragging it through her hair with more force than he would have ever used. "There," she proclaimed proudly standing up and placing a kiss on his nose. "I couldn't sit still any longer. If we have a daughter I know who she is going to let brush her hair." Emma paused considering something.

They had fallen into a relative ease discussing what might happen when they had a family and although he knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do he did it as well. Their marriage was looming closer every day and Emma had plans with Sophia to start shopping for dresses directly after Nationals. Sometimes he couldn't believe that after everything they had been through things were going so smoothly. They were actually building a life not just talking about it. They had a plan. They had even started to talk about looking at houses neither of them wanting to spend their lives in an apartment.

"It's getting late." Emma leaned against him looking out the window at the setting sun. "I'm going to go take a shower."

Will nodded realizing that now would be a good time to take Moritz outside. The dog had been cooped up in the house since returning from the farm, sprawled out in the middle of the kitchen floor exhausted from the countless miles he had logged chasing cats.

Making his way out to the kitchen Will called the dog over snapping his leash on deciding at the last minute to take him out front instead of in back.

"How is she?" Will jumped as he stepped outside startled to find Emma's father sitting in a lawn chair not four feet away from the porch. "I saw her check the door. Six times." He finished his voice falling with sadness.

Taking a deep breath Will sat down beside Dave his elbows resting on his knees staring straight ahead as he spoke.

"The OCD and Mysophobia are worse right now but she is working on them. I don't push her. I used to but right now my choices are what she has right now and the eating disorder and between the two I would stand there for two hours while she checked a door. Well," Will amended, "maybe. She was really nervous about coming here. I knew it was going to happen."

That morning had Emma had been an uncontrollable bustle of nervous energy racing around the house to double check things she had already triple-checked. Will had just watched deciding not to add to the frenzied atmosphere by simply sitting on the couch hoping his calm demeanor would rub off on her. It had worked after a while and eventually she had settled down enough to sit next to him although her body had still been tense.

"How is that, the eating thing? I can see she's gained weight. She looks good Will. Healthy…like my daughter again." Dave spoke softly into the setting sun.

"I really couldn't ask for better progress." Will admitted with a smile thinking of breakfast. "This morning even though she was so anxious she still ate. I was expecting to have to coax her but I didn't have to say anything. We even joked about you're getting cattle. She expected that by the way. She had a bet on how long it would take before you broke down." Will laughed. "I lost."

"Is that so?" Dave chuckled. "She knows me too well." His voice sobered as he continued. "You've been the best thing that ever happened to her. I can't tell you how grateful I am for everything that you have done, for staying by her side."

"I love her." Will said softly.

"She's smitten with you. I can see it in her eyes. I wish her mother could have seen her now, so happy." Dave trailed off leaving a silence that should have been awkward.

The sun had set leaving Will unable to make out the lines of the house across the street as he sat in comfortable silence with Emma's father listening to the locusts buzz all around them in the muggy Virginia air imagining what Lynette would have thought if she could indeed see her daughter right now.

* * *

It was midnight before he came back inside grinning at the sight of Emma curled up on her side in the childhood bed that had shared back at the farm despite his exhaustion. She appeared to be sound asleep her hair still damp from the shower. Delegating the unneeded covers to the foot of the bed Will crawled in behind her forgoing pulling her close in the warm southern night in favor of a hand resting comfortably on her hip.

Staring into the darkness he thought about their time on the farm. He had been taken aback when she had asked him to stop but he was glad she had. It meant she respected herself enough not to do something she wasn't comfortable with. He had been telling the truth when he told her she wouldn't have allowed him to do that earlier in their relationship and he hoped she believed him. What they had shared, though simple and intruded upon by her Mysophobia had been wonderful, special.

Gently Will leaned over placing a goodnight kiss on her cheek smiling when he heard her whisper that she loved him right before he fell asleep.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts please?


	41. Chapter 40

A/N: I forgot to mention although I'm sure you noticed that her family spontaneously developed names. Back when I first started writing this I wasn't expecting them to crop up so much. If they mentioned her mother's profession on the show I apologize. I would have changed it anyways.

I have a job interview tomorrow so there is a chance my updates might be coming about less frequently but I definitely will not forget about this story. It's my baby.

Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think please. Extreme contrasts in this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Forty**

**Emma's POV**

Emma had once told Will she was tired of having an eating disorder. At the time her statement had been true and honestly if she thought about it, about what she had put him through she didn't want to go back. She wanted the life the eating disorder had taken away. It was just that on some days more than others the process of recovery was so exhausting she wanted nothing to do with it. Nothing was simple anymore and everything reminded her of the weight she had gained.

Last night they had watched a movie curled up together on the couch. She hadn't known how to answer when he had asked why she was determined to keep a pillow over her stomach no matter what position she was in. When she had tried to lay on her side her stomach had felt disgusting, distended from her father's surprisingly successful first attempt at a cooking a real meal. She had been terrified that her recent food intake would be visible through her t-shirt so she had grabbed a pillow only relaxing when it covered her stomach. Half way through Will had asked if they could switch positions which had left her on her back between his legs. The pillow had remained. Her safeguard against accidently touching her stomach something she avoided doing most of the time. In the end he had eventually given up on trying to get her to move it and had wrapped his arms around them both. If someone were to ask she wouldn't be able to tell them anything about the movie other than how uncomfortable she had felt and how frustrating it was considering all they had done earlier in the day.

This morning as she leaned against the counter waiting for her tea to heat Emma tried not to think about how much quicker her hip bones would have connected with the furniture three months ago. Will had convinced her to wear shorts for the day staying in the role of a gentleman by saying it would be cooler in the Virginia heat. Neither of them had woken up during the thunderstorm-riddled cool front that had rolled through during the night leaving the morning dreary, rainy and overcast.

"You're cold." A voice wafted into her ear followed by a warm body trapping her lightly against the counter.

Emma turned and snuggled closer into his embrace thanking the International Harvester parts store for being a good four hours away. Her dad had left before either of them had gotten up in search of a part for a combine.

"I need a shower." Will murmured suggestively apparently intent on making the best of their limited alone time.

Three months ago Emma would have found a reason to decline. Three months ago he might not have even broached what he was not so subtly hinting at. Three months ago she definitely would not have let him grab her arm and lead her towards the bathroom.

Emma followed with a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew enough to know that most couples rarely got any showering done when together but she also knew she was not the average person when it came to showers and the last time they had shared one had been after Gates and that hadn't exactly been mutual.

Emma gasped slightly when she felt his hands removing her shirt his fingers brushing along her torso longer than necessary before he stepped back.

"Is this okay?" He asked seriously his eyes the only give a way to how much he hoped she said yes.

Nodding she watched as her hands reached out towards him almost in slow motion sliding his shirt over his shoulders letting it fall to the crumpled pile hers had created seconds earlier. Her breath caught in her throat as Will slowly pushed her shorts down leaving her in just a pair of underwear. A small feeling of panic rose but she worked hard to push it back comforted in the light she figured Will had intentionally left dim.

Seeming to sense her self-consciousness Will brought his mouth to the juncture of her neck and collar bone smoothly hooking his fingers under the waist band of the underwear that soon pooled at her feet.

Before she could regain her senses warm water was cascading down her front and she forgot all discomfort when Will's naked body pressed up against her his erection digging into her back as his soap lathered hands began to roam her body.

She moaned softly her head falling back against his shoulder when he lingered over her breasts one thumb brushing across a nipple while he asked again if she was okay.

Having lost the ability to answer back when her underwear had hit the ground Emma only nodded wanting nothing more than for him to never stop touching her.

"I want you." She whispered shocked at the arousal evident in her voice.

"Patience." Will whispered back effortlessly sliding one hand lower so that it was resting between her hip bones.

Her broken attempt to say his name was the permission he was looking for and his hand dipped even lower. Her hips moved forward of their own accord when he cupped her.

"Are you sure?" He spoke softly against her neck giving her every opportunity to back out moaning softly when she pushed back against him.

Emma brought her arms above her head wrapping them around his neck as best she could her eyes slipping closed in pleasure as he gently pushed one finger inside of her slowly moving in and out frustration and exileration coursing through her. Something about the shower was turning the tables and suddenly what he was doing wasn't enough. She wanted more.

"Knees." She tilted her head back and smiled in encouragement into his questioning eyes when he stopped moving.

"Height difference." He ground out his voice rough and thick. "Lay down."

After a moment's hesitation she listened propping herself up slightly at the back of the tub Will's body between her legs taking the brunt of the water. He smiled once before he placed a soft kiss to her hip bone and moved lower.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will pulled Emma closer dragging another cover up from the foot of the bed as she shivered against him sound asleep. He had tried to get her to blow dry her hair, had even offered to do it himself but she had declined saying that she preferred him keeping her warm.

He couldn't believe what he had done not half an hour ago, where his mouth had been. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined a shower giving her the confidence to let him do something he had assumed after yesterday she wouldn't be ready for in quite a while.

Somewhere in the back of his mind guilt was trying to creep in at the prospect of being in her father's house but the reality of the progress they had just made was keeping it at bay. No one would know meaning the information could only hurt them something he highly doubted would happen. Emma didn't seem to have any regrets in fact they had spent a fair amount of time making out after dressing and crawling back into bed.

Will looked at the clock wondering where the time had gone to. It was noon which meant two things one more unfortunate than the other; food and Ryan. Emma's brother had stayed the night at a friends the distance he kept not unnoticed by Will. Apparently the man was still uneasy around him and as far as he was concerned that was fine.

"Emma," Will whispered softly tickling her torso until she started laughing and squirming in an attempt to get away. "Good you're up." He grinned against her cheek leaving five kisses to see if she would notice.

"That was only five." She stayed were she was clearly waiting for the remaining kiss.

It had started as a joke to kiss her six times. He had told her initially it was to make up for her having to stop whatever OCD behavior was plaguing her before six but it had become a habit. Occasionally he left only two or three and then walked away letting her search him out for the rest.

"You get the sixth after lunch." He informed her with a smile delighted when the only emotion he saw in her eyes was joy.

* * *

Ryan waltzed in the front door before they had even made it all the way to the kitchen. An odd expression on his face his presence alone putting Will on edge. Emma sat down at the table clearly warring with herself on how to address her brother. Ryan saved them both the trouble.

"Ems did you hear about Gates?" He asked concern and anger etched into his words.

Emma froze her eyes growing wide her voice wavering she answered. "Um…no, what about him?"

This was officially one of the worst situations Will had been in. Her brother was asking about someone that to him was nothing more than a childhood friend who Emma had been close with. He had no idea what kind of ground he was treading on. Even when the man wasn't trying to be irritating he caused problems.

"He was escorted out of the church with police. They even followed him when he went to collect sheet music! Gates, Em! It's Gates, the most respectable guy in the world and they were worried he would steal music. He always said that head pastor wanted him out of there. Guess he got what he wanted." Ryan snorted in disgust oblivious to the tension in the room.

"You talked to him?" Emma asked tentatively sounding far too hopeful for Will's comfort.

"Sure I did. He came up to me. He's in the car right now. He said there was something he wanted to tell you." Ryan casually stepped over to the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice.

"He's here?" Emma started to stand. Will stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "No, Em. He's not who you think he is. This will only make things worse. Stay, please." He added desperately knowing full well she would accept any apology the man offered.

"Dude, what the hell?" Ryan questioned setting the carton on the counter. "Is he always this controlling Ems?" He turned his focus from Emma who clearly wasn't listening. "Stop telling her what the fuck to do man."

Will raised his hands in surrender. "Ryan it's not what you think. There's stuff going on here you don't-" Emma jumped up distracting both men as she mumbled something about effective treatments and headed for the door with determined strides.

"Emma, don't!" The door closing behind her was his only answer.

Ryan's arm stopped him from running after her. Will knew how this must look. Her brother probably thought he was the overbearing boyfriend that dominated every aspect of their significant other's life. He was reluctant to divulge the truth but Ryan wasn't letting him go anywhere. When the man started to yell at him for being a controlling bastard Will yelled back.

"He tried to rape her!" The shock value of those five words left the sibling speechless his eyes widening as his mouth fell open. Will didn't stay to explain any further already out the door Ryan close on his heels both men shouting Emma's name.

Will felt bile rising in his throat when he caught sight of Emma standing not four feet away from the man he had found pressing her against a tree what seemed like yesterday. Her posture was tense yet relaxed at the same time and her face showed that she was listening intently. He didn't want her to listen. He wanted her to run, to get the hell away from the man who had hurt her so horribly.

"Get out of here! We'll get a restraining order." Will didn't try to keep the venom out of his voice as he stepped up behind Emma immediately wrapping his arms around her and pulling her backwards.

"Will! Let go! We are just talking!" Emma struggled against him her voice angered.

"Why do you want to talk with him?" Will demanded looking her straight in the eye.

"He's apologizing." She said as though it were the simplest thing on the planet.

"I've been receiving treatment." Gates spoke directly to Emma ignoring Will. "Empathy training. I'm sure you learned about that, about how successful it is."

Will watched helplessly as Emma nodded. This man was once again weaving his way back into her good graces and truthfully Will wondered if he had ever truly left them. She was so unbelievably willing to trust and on top of it all she probably still had residual guilt about the entire thing. The resignation he had heard in her voice when she had said she was going to burn the emails had given him false hope. Will didn't want to hear him say he was sorry. Sorry would never be good enough for what he had tried to do, what he had done. When Emma took a tentative step forward Will stopped standing by.

"We're going inside." He glared at Gates grabbing Emma by the arm. "Ryan, get him out of here."

Ryan hadn't moved since they had stepped outside but he listened to Will's request staring down the man in the passenger seat as he climbed into the car and backed out of the driveway.

As soon as the front door closed behind them Emma was across the room shooting him a look that rivaled the one he had given Gates as she paced back and forth her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't want you anywhere near that man." Will ground out not waiting for Emma to speak knowing he was in for a battle regardless.

"Now you are being controlling!" She added insult to injury with her brother's words.

"No," Will crossed the room placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'm protecting you Emma. Think about what he did. No matter how much you want him to be he is not the man you thought he was. Empathy training is not going to change what he did, who he is."

"They are people too." She forced out between thin lips.

"Don't quote psychology to me." He lowered his voice not wanting the situation to escalate farther than it had. "Maybe underneath all the shit he did there is something positive but it's up to you to find that because I sure as hell can't. I don't want you to go near him. Please Emma, just listen to me."

Emma looked up her eyes brimming with tears all traces of anger gone as she collapsed against his chest with a heavy sob. He held her for a good half hour rocking her in place listening quietly as she told him that what had happened was hard to accept either way she looked at it. That sometimes she could see the good in things he had told her but then she thought about all of the time she had spent with him in complete trust and felt sick.

"Can we go to the farm?" Emma looked up at him her doe-eyes breaking his heart.

"It's raining." He offered by way of excuse not wanting to go anywhere. His attempt fell flat when she said she wanted to go in the house so it wouldn't matter.

Will sighed but gave in. The day had already gone horribly downhill. He couldn't really see it getting much worse. He didn't have the heart to remind her that they hadn't eaten lunch knowing she wouldn't have an appetite and that she probably hadn't forgotten.

* * *

Stepping into the house the first thing he noticed were the walls devoid of pictures and shelves he hadn't really glanced twice at before. Will didn't want to know what the first thing Emma noticed was. The large kitchen seemed cavernous with only the makeshift card table her father must have brought in sitting in the middle of the room.

Emma pushed past him without saying anything carrying the box of speakers she had insisted upon bringing along up the stairs that led to her bedroom. Will followed no longer amused by the brown carpet beneath his feet. He stopped short just as she did when they reached the top to find that the obnoxious blue material had been ripped up leaving a stained floor. Gently he placed a hand on her lower back encouraging her to move hoping her father hadn't torn her room up as well.

They pushed the door open to find it as they had left it sans the bed that now occupied the house in town. With nothing to focus on he noticed the cracks in the ceiling, the peeling plaster only adding to the melancholy mood of the entire place.

Emma settled herself on the floor not saying anything as she removed the speakers propping one up in a lone shoe he could only assume was her mother's. Calmly she searched for a song on her iPod her brow furrowed as though she knew exactly when one she was looking for.

"Two songs," She murmured not offering titles.

The sound of stringed instruments filled his ears and Will swallowed hard remembering how Emma had once said this song reminded her of their troubled relationship.

_Mama who bore_

_Mama who gave me_

_No way to handle things, who made me so sad_

_Mama the weeping_

_Mama the angels_

_No sleep in heaven or Bethlehem_

_Some pray that one day _

_Christ will come a callin'_

_They light a candle_

_And hope that it glows_

_And some just lie there crying_

_For him to come and find them_

_But when he comes they don't know how to go_

Emma stood up taking a deep breath spreading her arms out to either side as the music intensified.

_Mama who bore me_

_Mama who gave me_

_No way to handle things_

_Who made me so bad_

_Mama the weeping_

_Mama the angels_

_No sleep in heaven_

Slowly she lowered her arms letting them hang loosely at her sides.

Or Bethlehem.

As soon as he heard the opening chords he knew what song was next. He could feel the tears before she started to sing. In the moment Will was profoundly grateful for the musical that had provided a sort of outlet for her emotions via song. She had once commented that she missed singing in the car with her mother. It killed him that this was the only place she felt she could be heard.

_Those you've known_

_And lost still walk behind you_

_All alone _

_They linger 'til they find you._

_Without them the world grows dark around you_

_And nothing is the same until you know that they have found you._

Her voice changed, becoming stronger and more confident as the female lead picked up where the male had left off.

_Those you've pained may carry that still with them_

_All the same they whisper all forgiven_

_Still your heart says the shadows bring the starlight_

_And everything you've ever been is still there in the dark night_

Will stopped watching finding that gazing out the window was much less painful not realizing he was singing the verse Emma was skipping until she looked up at him her tear filled eyes meeting his their voices overlapping, echoing hauntingly in the barren room.

_Though you know you've left them far behind _

_you walk on by yourself and not with them_

_Still you know they fill your heart and mind_

_when they say there's a way through this_

Simultaneously Emma sang the descant.

_When the northern wind blows_

_The sorrows your heart holds_

_There are those who still know_

_They're still home_

_We're still home_

Emma turned her entire body to face him. It was surreal, standing on opposite sides of her childhood bedroom singing to her as she sang to her mother.

_Those you've known_

_And lost still walk behind you_

_All alone_

_Their song still seems to find you_

_They call you as if you knew their longing_

_They whistle through the lonely wind the long blue shadows falling_

_All alone but still I hear their yearning_

_Through the dark _

_The moon alone there burning_

_The stars too_

_They tell of spring returning_

_Of summer with another wind that no one yet has known_

_When the northern wind blows_

_The sorrows, your heart's known._

_I believe_

Will looked up in shock as Emma's voice grew to fill the small space. He had never heard her sing so forcefully.

_We're still home_

_They're still home_

_Now they'll walk on my arm through the distant night_

_And I won't let them stray from my heart_

_Through the wind, through the dark, through the winter light_

_I will read all their dreams to the stars_

_I'll walk now with them_

_I'll call on their names_

_And I'll see their thoughts are known_

_Not gone_

_Not gone_

_They walk with my heart_

Standing up he crossed the room up picking up where her sobs forced her to stop knowing how important it was to her for someone to finish the song.

_And I'll never let them go_

_I'll never let them go_

_Never let them go._

_You watch me_

_Just watch me_

_I'm calling_

_I'm calling_

_And one day all will know_

Gently he kissed her on the forehead letting her fall against him. Slowly he slid down the wall tucking them both into the corner that had once been hidden by a bed. She curled up into him tucking her knees to her chest. He hushed her attempts to talk only moving to turn the iPod off before the song repeated.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

She had imagined feeling silly singing to her mother in front of Will but when he had joined in everything but the idea that her mother could maybe hear her had vanished. She had worked hard on those songs wanting them to be perfect for the day she finally sang them to her. Over and over she had tried to pretend her mother was in the room as she had practiced but it had never worked. She only ended up feeling lost and empty. Being at the house, standing in her bedroom she could almost feel her mother's smile. She had always loved it when she sang.

"I miss you." She whispered into Will's shirt damp from her tears feeling him tense beneath her in an attempt to hold back his own sob as she kept talking. "I'm engaged mom. Remember how we use to talk about that? It actually happened. I'm getting married. I'm sorry you won't get to see me in a dress. I know how much you wanted to see that." Emma laughed reliving her mother's endless commentary about how shocked she would be to see her daughter in a wedding dress. Emma paused and took a deep breath trying to hold back the emotion threatening to break through. "I wish you could be there mom."

Will's arms tightened around her pulling her flush against his chest as her tears finally succeeded in stopping her voice. They didn't move for a long time, Will simply rocking her the way he had at the town house not saying anything. He probably didn't know what to say.

"Can we spend the night?" Emma was surprised her voice didn't betray her as she requested something she wasn't really sure of the reasons behind. All she knew is that she didn't want to leave.

"Yeah." Will choked out. "There's a blanket in the car." Emma almost couldn't understand his words as he gently pushed her forward so he could stand. "I'll be back." He whispered as if he was afraid to break the trance that seemed to have settled over the room disappearing just as quietly through the door.

Emma stayed where she was wrapping her arms around her knees staring at the ceiling.

"They told me your grave marker came in. I don't know if I want to go to your grave mom. I suppose I will have to, for dad but you aren't there for me. You're here. I'm sorry for all of the crap I put you through, all of the fights we had. I loved you. I still do. If I put flowers on your grave you're getting wildflowers. I don't care if it is illegal. Grandmother is the one who sees the value in artificial flowers not me. " Will returned with the blanket folded neatly in his arms spreading it out on the floor not saying anything as she continued to speak. "I miss you. I even miss those stupid debates you used to get in with Ryan where inevitably you would switch sides. I miss you calling the cats the way you were taught to call pigs growing up. I miss the sound of your laugh. Sometimes I worry I will forget what your voice sounded like. I miss those stupid trips to the zoo even though I hated them where we would get those ridiculous little penguin insulated water bottles. Do you know how many of those I have?" Emma questioned thinking of the row shoved to the back of a cupboard in her apartment. "You would find it ironic mom that I found a guy who likes to show dogs. Remember that day we got lost and ended up at the zoo instead of the dog show because you thought I liked going there? I think he is going to make up for that." This time Will looked up a sad smile on his face. "I miss how you knew all the ten codes for the police station, hearing your voice as you mimicked the ones on the scanner dad is still obsessed with by the way." Emma added with a shake of her head. "I have the last call from your funeral memorized you know. It made me cry. I was good up until then. No response from Dispatcher Lynette Pillsbury is what really got me. The police officer, whoever he was, he put his hand on my shoulder as he walked past me. That was the first time in my life that I was able to cry in public and not care. Ten-four mom. See, I remember one." She finished softly.

* * *

**Will's POV**

He waited an hour before bringing up that they hadn't eaten yet. It was Emma who had suggested a restaurant on the hill aptly named Jerry's Hilltop that had been a favorite of her mothers. She had eaten surprisingly well considering everything the day had thrown at her. On the drive back he had pushed the brush with Gates from his mind concentrating instead on what it meant that Emma had chosen to eat with relative ease. She really was doing better. Before treatment she would have abstained from all forms of food including oatmeal after what had happened at her dad's.

The troubling thought that Emma had been so willing to forgive the man wouldn't leave him alone however and before they had gotten out of the car he had been pondering what to do about the situation. He couldn't stop her from seeing him although he was certain she wouldn't actively search him out. It didn't make sense to him that she could be so completely ingratiated to a man who had tried to rape her. It had to have stemmed from their relationship in her teens. She was unwilling to give up the central figure in that part of her life. Maybe he could understand that. He still couldn't look past what Gates had done. He hadn't told anyone but he still occasionally had nightmares about that day. They were always the same. He was always too late. Thankfully on the nights he had woken up in a cold sweat Emma had remained asleep. He didn't want her to know.

Slowly Will's thoughts shifted to their shower, the portion of the day that seemed a stark contrast with the rest. Like life and happiness visiting them only to stay for two minutes before grief and anger ran them out. He knew at some point the pattern would break and things would stop happening to rob them of the life they deserved. Little moments were poking through and that was far better than the life they had led before she had gone to treatment.

He couldn't believe what a difference Rivergroves had made in her. They were going to miss her first support group meeting but Dr. Wicker had assured him it would be fine. She had once told him that she was tired of having an eating disorder but sometimes as he watched her struggle through every day he thought that recovery must be harder. It made sense that on certain days for no reason he could ascertain that she was downright exhausted. On those days he would step in, be more of the support system by way of making choices for her ensuring she ate what she was supposed to. In the back of his mind he had been tossing around the idea of a more concrete meal plan. He still had to call Kristen about that. He wanted to know what she was supposed to be eating instead of guessing at portions something that probably wasn't helpful to her in the least although she hadn't said anything.

Emma stirred slightly in his arms shivering harshly in the empty house. He would spend the night here for a week if she asked. He never asked her to explain why she wanted to stay. He understood completely. She felt close to her mother sleeping in the room she had grown up in even if it was stripped bare.

It wasn't all that late, the sun only just beginning to set but she was tired. He was more than willingly to lay with her feeling oddly at ease the sound of her voice as she had sang still lingering in his mind.

"Six." He whispered leaving a soft kiss on her cheek before closing his eyes.

* * *

A/N: Again, please let me know what you think. Reviews make my day especially from such wonderful readers!


	42. Chapter 41

A/N: Don't hate me, there's a reason.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-One**

**Emma's POV**

Emma stared at the medication resting unassumingly in the palm of her hand trying to ignore how foreign it felt to be sitting at a card table instead of the oak table that had occupied the kitchen her entire life. She had forgotten to take the pill last night with all the disruptions to her routine and Will, uncharacteristically, had forgotten to remind her.

She didn't feel any different. No stark change in her personality or thoughts had developed overnight. In fact she felt wonderful, oddly in control of the decision she had never before given such intense thought. Things were finally starting to work out in her life the only dark spot being the medication she dreaded having to take. Every time she swallowed the pills she considered what it would be like to skip a dose. Surprisingly she hadn't. Last night was the first time and it had been an accident. An accident that wasn't entirely unwelcome.

"Hey, did you take your med last night?" Will's voice drifted into the kitchen growing louder as he descended the stairs.

"No!" Emma called out wondering why she told the truth as she gently pocketed the pill. "I forgot the bottle in town." She amended her truth with a lie.

Will appeared in the doorway a slight frown on his face. "Okay, well, I'm sure missing one dose can't hurt that much. I snagged a couple from the bottle in case this happened anyways. Hold on." He was out the door before she could respond to say that she could just wait until that night, the pill seeming to burn a hole in her pocket as she tried to rationalize what she had just done.

"Here," Will reappeared before she could succeed placing another pill next to the glass of water she had intended to use earlier turning and heading for the bathroom without another word one hundred percent confident she would take it.

Medication of some kind had been in her life for over three months. The prospect of cutting it out, the idea that maybe she could function without it was alluring in the same way returning to the eating disorder still was at times although the latter was much less frequent.

Emma knew all of the reasons to not do what she was doing but if going off the medicine meant she could return to that place where she had felt on top of the world, invincible no matter what was thrown her way it was worth it. Worth the gamble that she might end up back where she was when Will had her hospitalized. Looking back she could clearly see the symptoms that had all but screamed of depression. Surely she would notice if they started creeping back. It was simple. If they did start to return she would start taking the medication again. No harm would be done and no one but her would ever know the difference.

Quickly Emma slipped the pill into her pocket alongside the other one trying to think of a better hiding place. She couldn't leave them where they were the chance that Will might discover them the way he had her letter was too strong.

There was a small blue box buried at the bottom of her purse sitting on the blanket upstairs. Honestly she wasn't sure why she was keeping the box or its contents having not used them in over three months. Many times she had tried to throw it away but her hand always recoiled as soon as it was within hovering distance of the trash can. Even when Will had asked if such a thing existed she had said not anymore telling him she had tossed them in the dumpster embellishing her lie by saying it was a refreshing experience. That night she had moved the box to her purse not putting it past Will to once-over the apartment anyways.

Standing, Emma made her way upstairs one hand protectively over the two small bumps in her pocket. What she was doing wasn't hazardous, not really. She could put up with a little SSRI withdrawal if it decided to flare up and it wasn't like the Abilify was what was keeping the eating disorder at bay. She wouldn't suddenly relapse and if by some odd chance she started to she was more than capable of recognizing the symptoms this time around.

Emma pushed her way through the hall trying and failing to not notice the peeling paint, the empty feeling that permeated her surroundings mimicking the feeling that had been slowly forcing its way into her life since she had left Rivergroves, the feeling she was so sick of she would do anything to be distracted from it, even for a moment.

It wasn't merely the result of missing her mother. Recently that had gotten somewhat easier to handle. A much larger portion was comprised of an almost painful yearning for the life she had lost and the respect she had felt for herself that had went with it.

Every day she started over with a foundation of nothing. All of the qualities she had upheld had disappeared with the eating disorder and hypomania. During her depression she had lost every last one of those qualities and had stood by watching helplessly as she had become everything she had told herself she would never be. Some of what she had done she hadn't even told Will.

At one point the thought of living as the mess she saw in the mirror had become so overwhelming she had seriously considered overdosing pushing aside the thought of what had happened in high school. The pile of pills she had intended to take the day Will had discovered the self-injury in her office still sat buried underneath a swab of cotton in an old half-empty Tylenol bottle back home. She hadn't tried to throw that away.

Carefully Emma dug through her purse pushing past items that bespoke of her progress to find the one that showed she wasn't ready to cut the strings to who she had been. Over time she had even denied the true meaning behind keeping the momento that she now held delicately between her fingers. It didn't mean anything if she hadn't thought about using it. Of course she had thought about the box and on occasion had found herself simply staring at it searching for a source of comfort but she had never opened it. For the first time since her treatment she pulled the lid off unexpectedly transfixed by what lay inside.

A small pile of blood-encrusted razors gently overlapped one another. Tiny red smears, one clearly a fingerprint, lined the bottom and four sides of the box. Without thinking Emma dumped them into the palm of her hand slightly disgusted by what she was doing. Slowly she sat down cross-legged on the floor fishing the pills from her pocket, rolling them between the fingers of her free hand. She wasn't really backtracking, only experimenting. As she dropped the pills into the bottom of the box she told herself it was an experiment she was in complete control over.

Emma continued to stare at the razors transported back to a time when their touch against her body promised to solve everything. The sound of creaks on the stairs brought her back from the morning when everything had gone so wrong. Momentarily she envisioned herself giving them to Will, the image shattered beyond recognition as they joined the pills in the box, the secret she wasn't sure why she was keeping hastily shoved back into her purse and flung across the room as though it would burn her by sheer proximity alone.

It was a terrible disconnect; the life she was forging peering into the eyes of the one she was fairly certain she wanted to destroy. That was the problem. She wasn't one hundred percent certain and with that uncertainty came the inclination to salvage parts here and there, to somehow insert them into the person that she sometimes felt she didn't recognize anymore. The objects lurking in her purse represented a connection strong against all odds, a fraying string that held the promise of familiarity. She wasn't giving up. She had come too far for that. Forcefully she pushed the words of her psychology professor's lectures about the dangers of stopping medication from her mind as Will walked in. She wasn't stopping indefinitely, only for a while, a simple experiment concerning something that had been bothering her ever since Will had proposed. A test to see what would happen and nothing more.

Will smiled at her from the doorway crossing the room to sit beside her. She listened half-heartedly as he ticked off things they could do her eyes never leaving the purse eerily calm about the entire situation. He wouldn't find out. There was no reason for him to suspect anything besides, he was a major component in her finally giving into the urge to see skip taking the pills she had been growing desperate to prove she didn't need, their future as a family depending on it, something she was certain he wasn't aware of.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will trailed off following Emma's gaze to her purse wondering why she seemed so fixated on the blue jean garment. Before he questioned her he remembered that it had belonged to her mother. Maybe she had been holding it before he walked in and had thrown it down needlessly embarrassed. That would account for the haphazard way it lay crumpled against the far wall.

Her purse was one thing he had never gone though. It felt too personal although he was content to let her think he had just in case she ever decided to hide something from him. Up until recently the prospect of her hiding anything hadn't really been a concern.

Discovering the bloodied towel in the closet had almost been enough to get him to work past his qualms until she had willingly shown him she hadn't done anything. He had scoured the house shortly after she had been hospitalized for razors finally asking her when he had come up empty-handed choosing to believe her when she said she had thrown them out because her eyes had not once left his.

For a while now he had been meaning to ask if she still had any urges to cut. He wanted to know if she did, wanted to know what situations triggered the response and how they could be tempered if not avoided but asking that question seemed to him like one of the kids calling him out if he suddenly decided to leave them to perform on Broadway; a slap in the face, an accusation riddled only with mistrust of every one of his intentions up until that point.

It troubled him, the information he had gleaned from websites and books that told him the urges would likely remain for years, a passage that seemed to be high-lighted and bolded within his mind, the words having come from a woman who hadn't self-injured in over twelve years. If she still had them after that length of time it was almost laughable that Emma would be over them after three months. He, just like she, could have his delusions and also just like her he could choose to entertain them in the face of a mountain of evidence proclaiming they were false.

That being accounted for, he wasn't completely sold on his delusion. Every once in a while he seriously considered bringing it up logically knowing the discomfort on both their parts would be well worth it on the off chance she was having urges. Her actually cutting was a chance he considered null with their rising level of intimacy. That would be his first clue, if she suddenly withdrew from him or stopped letting him undress her. He was unfortunately aware that by the time that happened it would be too late and they would be back at square one with him checking her once every few days, a process that to him seemed nothing short of dehumanizing.

It had to have been humiliating for her, standing in the bedroom methodically stripping with no trace of arousal on either of their parts. She would never meet his eyes, her head always angled downward her hair forming a protective curtain over her face as she held out her arms for his inspection turning around when he whispered quietly for her to do so. He had tried to lighten the mood with gentle touches that had bordered on caresses stopping abruptly when she told him what they were doing was humiliating enough. Proof that most of the time even he didn't know what the wisest course of action was.

Whether it was helpful or not he knew without a doubt he would have never done it had Dr. Wicker not more than slightly suggested it emphasizing the increased risk of self-injurious behavior during eating disorder recovery. Often he would shower afterwards attempting to scrub away how dirty he felt. All of it was an aspect of their relationship that for good or bad wasn't discussed.

Even though he no longer went out of his way to check for cuts he still found himself watching closely whenever her clothes were off, an unsettling development for him that invaded intimate moments with little discrimination. Yesterday in the shower as his hands had trailed along her skin he had silently watched for signs. It bothered him that he had such thoughts, angered him that he acted on them. It was comparable to how he had mentally taken note of how prominent her ribcage or hipbones were without letting on. It felt like a betrayal, one that no matter how much he rallied against it, a part of him deemed necessary.

"Em?" He somehow managed to question through the thoughts holding his mind captive. "Any of those sound good?"

"Mom and dad liked thrasher's reunions but I think you would be bored. Do you even know what they are?" Emma giggled still staring at her purse leaning lightly against his side.

Will made no attempt to hide his ignorance."Not a clue."

"Wait," Emma turned to face him with a broad smile. "The Star Party! I can't believe I forgot about that. I know it's going on. We have to go Will!"

He smiled back her excitement contagious, the light in her eyes sealing his fate even though he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"What is a Star Party?"He asked with a chuckle as she forced him to stand nearly shoving him out the door mumbling that she had to figure out what to wear.

"You'll see." Emma replied distractedly closing the door in his face single-handedly erasing the nagging thoughts that had enveloped him as soon as he had set foot in her bedroom.

For a moment he lingered outside the door listening to the sound of her rummaging through the overnight bag he hadn't known she had brought along. During the night she had confessed that she had been planning on spending the night but had been afraid to tell him, afraid he would turn the idea down. He honestly hadn't minded staying the night. It meant he had been able to hold her close without the fear of her father barging in.

Emma taking the time to dress up was something new to him. When he had first known her she had never been dressed down but once her depression had started setting in she had taken to sweatpants and sweatshirts not caring enough to even mess with her hair. Unlike most men he would willingly wait hours for her to get ready to go somewhere. To him it meant that she was getting better, taking pride in herself and her appearance.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Purposefully Emma dug through the duffel bag that was now nearly empty. Most of its contents strewn about the floor searching fervently for the items she distinctly remembered packing.

It was a bit of a drive to where the Star Party was going to be held. They would have to leave fairly soon to catch any of the festivities some of which were so ridiculous she wanted Will to see them. The Star Party was a big deal around the small town people came from across the nation, once a year reinforcing the need for the farming community to have a motel.

Both of them had slept until the afternoon. A couple of times she had woken up only to snuggle closer into his embrace closing her eyes against the insistent morning sun deciding that for once she could sleep in.

Finally Emma's hands latched onto the same pair of blue jeans she had worn line-dancing making a point to ignore how the fabric seemed to fit more snugly around her thighs and waist then it had the last time she had worn it. Trepidation coursed through her has her hands came into contact with the strapless bra she had bought and never worn sliding her eyes closed as she slipped it on telling herself that it was for Will quickly pulling the loose-fitting, emerald green halter top over it only opening her eyes when she felt the clasp behind her neck hook securely.

Now came the hardest part. In truth she had been planning an evening out and had snuck along everything she had thought she might need save the one thing she knew would still be in her bedroom. Taking a deep breath Emma ducked into her childhood closet emerging with a slightly dusty full-length mirror her mother had always meant to hang on the back of her door. Carefully she propped it up against the wall where her dresser had once been relying on spatial memory, her eyes inches away from the glass, once again closed.

Straightening her top she took a step backwards unclasping her hair from the clip that held it in a semblance of a pony tail opening her eyes to watch it settle on her bare shoulders. Not giving herself time to truly examine her reflection Emma turned her focus to the straightener she had plugged in before she had gone after the mirror.

It didn't take long before her hair hung straight, flawlessly cascading over her shoulders surprising her with its length the slight wave that never really disappeared no matter what she did faintly visible.

Blindly reaching down she found her make-up bag once again taking a deep breath the bag now in her hand holding nothing but the promise of having to face the reality of her reflection. As a general rule she still avoided mirrors not wanting to compound the feeling that she was fat by seeing what to her, would be construed as physical proof.

Carefully she opened her eyes the breath she had been holding exiting in a startled gasp. Staring back at her was not the hideous glutton she had been expecting. Staring back at her was a young woman wearing a pair of tight blue jeans that fit just right with a top that offset the red in the hair that framed her face perfectly.

Her upper arms that she had expected to be repulsed by looked normal. The idea of normal that she had expected to be threatening was just the opposite, comforting in the healthy glow to her skin it provided. Her collar bone no longer jutted out at a sharp angle and her cheeks weren't hollow and sickly. When she had become capable of viewing her body this way was a mystery to her.

Tentatively she raised her shirt running her fingers over her stomach watching the movement in the mirror shocked to find that the soft coat of downy fur she had almost forgotten a time without was disappearing.

Emma couldn't get over what she was seeing; the normal way in which she was reacting to something she had long assumed would send her into a panicked frenzy. Nothing about the woman she was examining intently looked grotesquely overweight the way she often felt in everyday life. Lowering her shirt Emma let herself smile relishing in the concept that she could actually be proud of the way she looked, assured in how others might perceive her body. Idly she wondered if this was how Will saw her as she began to apply her make-up staring confidently at the reflection that she could almost call beautiful.

* * *

**Will's POV**

When she rounded the bar to step into the kitchen he forgot what he was doing his hands stilling over the bread he had absent-mindedly been smearing peanut butter on in favor of his imagining them running over her body, tangling in the red hair made vibrant by the green in her top.

He instantly recognized the jeans as the pair she had worn when they had gone line-dancing. They fit better this time, hugging her in all the right places forcing Will to actively concentrate on the task he was supposed to be accomplishing rather than the images of convincing her to stay home.

His desire for her touch had been steadily becoming harder to ignore, made even stronger after the shower he hadn't expected her to partake in. Now nearly every time he saw her he wanted to pull her off on her own, kiss her senseless, revel in the way she felt against him. Whatever they were going to tonight he hoped there weren't going to be in plain sight of everyone the entire time. If he got desperate enough and he couldn't help but think that he would having to stand next to her for hours on end and play nice he could always use the cover of darkness to his advantage, steal touches here and there. Standing in the kitchen watching the adorable way she blushed under his intense gaze he thought about driving her crazy whispering things that would make her blush, letting his hands find her body more often than they should.

"You look beautiful." He emphasized the last word forcing himself to concentrate on the jelly that seemed content to stick to the spoon resisting the urge to walk over to her.

"Thank you." Emma surprised him again with the confidence in her voice, the tone that told him that she knew just how good she looked.

"It's all we have." He held out the plate containing two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches knowing she wouldn't mind the meal that long ago it had become classified as safe.

"Looks delicious." She said reaching out for the sandwich nearest to her, her hand brushing against his causing his breath to hitch as he chastised himself for wanting to touch her so badly.

They talked while they ate all of his attempts to extract details about what the Star Party was falling flat in her evasive answers that simultaneously told him some things while omitting anything really important. So far all he had gathered was that it was held outdoors a tidbit that given their location meant absolutely nothing.

He didn't take nearly as long getting ready as Emma had content with a pair of blue jeans and a white button down shirt he had changed into after she told him the t-shirt he had intended to wear wasn't good enough. In retrospect he had to agree. Walking beside her with how she was dressed in a t-shirt would have looked tacky. It was the first time she had ever taken the initiative in telling him what to wear outside of the obnoxious one-liner western t-shirts she had subjected him to the last time they had visited Virginia. For Emma to instruct him on his clothing selection it meant she was not only taking pride in how she looked but how they looked as a couple. In a way he was excited to be seen with her. It wasn't that he hadn't felt that way with her before it was just that it had always been adjacent to the knowledge that to the rest of the world she looked too thin and no matter what he had told himself there was a certain judgmental stare that had been thrown his direction on many occasions. For once he wasn't worried about how people thought he treated her.

"Tell me again why we are taking your dad's truck and why you never felt the need to tell me you could drive a stick-shift." Will marveled at the woman beside him amazed he was still uncovering secrets about her that he would have never imagined existed in the first place.

"It's part of the experience. We need the truck bed and it never came up." Emma laughed as she shifted gears.

"Uh-huh and why do we need a truck bed?" He asked letting his tone grow suggestive.

"Not for reasons you're thinking about I'm sure." Emma muttered telling a cow that had escaped its fence to stay on the side of the road so she could pass. "If dad were here we would be out bringing that thing in."

"You're not going to?" Will teased knowing she didn't particularly like messing with the livestock after the incident when she was seven.

His only response was a glare and the threat that she would make him get out and sit back to enjoy a good laugh when the animal outsmarted him. Talk of bovine intelligence levels floated around the cab for the rest of the drive Will forgetting his next retort when Emma turned onto a dilapidated dirt road and into a grassy pasture that resembled the one they had been in the other day out on the farm.

"Of course it's in the middle of nowhere." Will said as she brought the truck to a halt creating their own row in the field. "You're kidding." He deadpanned watching out the passenger window as an elderly man unloaded a telescope to the sound of Emma's laughter.

"My parents always loved this. I wanted you to experience it. Come on, there are some fun games!" Emma exclaimed oblivious to his disbelief climbing down from the seat and closing the door before he really realized she had moved.

The sun was just starting to set as he made his way through the grass after her finally jogging to catch up wrapping his arm around her waist as they continued towards the gathering of people with their smattering of telescopes already aimed at the sky. For a small town in Virginia there was a surprising amount of people. He had already seen plates from Nebraska, Florida and Nevada. Whoever these people were they were definitely dedicated.

"This one is simple." Emma came to a stop in front of what appeared to be a carnival stand with white balloons lining the black-fabric covered back wall.

"Are those actually set up in constellations?" Will asked taking in the odd patterns he was staring at.

"Sure are young man." The man behind the counter waved them over. "How about you have a go, win this beautiful young lady a prize." Feeling trapped Will handed over a couple ones the weight of the darts in his hand reminding him of late evenings at the local carnival when he had been in high school.

"I have to what?" Will asked again the man's instructions lost in the sensation of Emma grabbing onto his arm whispering good luck.

He shook his head as he threw the first dart deciding that anyone who took the time to arrange balloons in constellations and dictate that they had to be popped only within their designated constellation needed a more time-consuming hobby.

Seven darts later he had successfully darkened the constellation of Orion earning a large stuffed star that he immediately passed over to Emma who blushed and clutched it close. He had always imagined winning something normal like a teddy bear but nothing in their relationship ever worked out the way it tended to play out in his mind.

They weaved in and out of the people as the sun continued to set Emma dragging him to different home-made telescopes revealing that she knew more about astronomy than he would have ever thought when she had known names he had never heard of.

True to his thoughts in the kitchen he let his hands rest on her body in various places occasionally pulling her close to place a chaste kiss on her neck or cheek after checking to make sure no one was watching. She would playfully swat him away, the smile she was doing a poor job of hiding the giveaway that she was enjoying the attention.

After a while he had figured out why she had insisted upon bringing a truck. The blanket they had slept on last night was spread out over the box and Will couldn't help but smile at the hoards of people settling down in their own vehicles to watch the night sky. It was something so incredibly simple he probably would have never thought of doing it. The feeling of Emma pressed up against him as they waited for the forecasted meteor shower was innocent and torturous all at once. If it hadn't been for the family two vehicles to their left he would have found a much better way to use their time than staring at twinkling dots in the night.

"The stars remind me of that one song." Emma admitted with a blush her fingers gently laced in his as they lie side by side.

"I think we have more than tonight. Does everything remind you of him?" Will questioned with a teasing smile.

"You do sometimes." She told him with a giggle.

"Really?" Will couldn't think of any similarities between himself and the teacher on Glee aside from the occupation.

"Yeah, the way you look, your hair, how your voice sounds when you sing to me." He didn't have to see her face to know she was blushing. "That's why I like him so much. He makes me think of you."

"Is that so?" Will smiled grabbing the back of her hand to bring it to his mouth. "I would like to think I'm better than him despite his Broadway career because you know even when he's singing he's really only singing into a camera and nothing else. I sing to you." Will clarified feeling oddly possessive.

"I've never felt like he was singing to me." Emma pulled her hand away sitting up to face him in the night. "Don't feel jealous. He's not you. He only reminds me of you." She emphasized again bringing a hand up to rest on his cheek making him embarrassed that he had ever felt jealously over a character on an unrealistic TV show.

The response he didn't have lined up was forever lost as her lips came to rest against his own just as abruptly pulling away as both of them looked to the sky as the meteor shower began.

"Pick one, call it a falling star and make a wish." He murmured against her cheek.

Emma closed her eyes leaning further into him whispering softly under her breath refusing to let him in on what she was wishing for. He made a wish of his own although he had never put much faith in the practice. The moment was too perfect to ruin with his own hang-ups regarding the scientific definition of a falling star.

Will got his wish, the little kids running off to partake in some activity no doubt geared towards distraction and he turned to the woman in his arms with a smirk.

"Mine came true. What about yours?" He shamelessly pressed for information about her wish again.

"Mine's complicated." She stated bringing her lips to his causing him to forget his line of questioning.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Once back at her father's house having stopped by the farm to trade vehicles Emma found herself in the same situation she had been in that morning, regarding the small blue pill with an almost resolute patience biding her time until Will once again headed for the bathroom. She had already started this. There was no sense in going back.

As soon as the door closed she raced into their bedroom rifling through her purse for the box dropping the medication beside the others telling herself again that she wasn't doing anything wrong despite the fact that she nearly threw the purse across the room to distance herself from it when she heard Will in the hall.

"What are you doing?"He questioned with a sleepy smile spreading the blanket over the bed turning down one side so that she could crawl in.

"Thinking about my wish." She answered honestly turning to face him. "Wondering if it's really possible for it to come true."

"You're not going to tell me are you?" Will brought his hand up brushing a stand of hair from her face.

Emma shook her head. She couldn't tell him. She wasn't ready to reveal to herself or him why there was a small yet growing pile of pills in her purse.

"Don't worry, it's nothing serious." She said as she snuggled in beside him fully confident that she would notice before anything could ever be merited as such.

* * *

A/N: I know, you hate me lol. Just go with it for a little bit.


	43. Chapter 42

**Chapter Forty-Two**

**Will's POV**

Will couldn't identify why but he felt like he was back at the beginning of their relationship, sneaking around in an attempt to uncover the cause behind Emma's increasingly unsettling behavior.

Their second to last day in Virginia Emma had surprised him by taking him to a local 4-H dog show held a week before the state fair that had an Open class for non-4-H competitors, including adults. He had opted out of the obedience portion feeling Moritz wasn't ready but he had won first place in the showmanship class against a middle-aged woman who had shown Shetland sheepdogs for over ten years.

They had offered a workshop shortly after the awards ceremony and much prodding on his and her father's part had convinced Emma to participate. The entire day she had been talking of feeling nervous, antsy, like at any moment she could snap. When he had pressed for a reason she had clamed up saying she wasn't sure why.

That moment had come when Moritz, still too young for hours of standing still, had decided that rolling over on his back and chewing on the leash was a much more fun option than listening to Emma. Despite their mutual training sessions the dog still favored him when it came to obeying which usually wasn't that much of a problem. Will had actually looked away in embarrassment on Emma's behalf when the dog had only flopped over again every time she tried to get him to stand. From his position not ten feet away he had been able to see the frustration settling over her features joined only by the humiliation that at the moment he had possessed enough of for both of them.

The judge had beat him to the punch, pulling Emma aside to say it was perfectly understandable if she wanted to quit the workshop applauding her for handling the young, unruly sporting breed so well. Will had seen her on the verge of tears then and had gotten up to follow as she slowly exited the ring Moritz adding insult to injury by playing tug of war with the lead.

What had happened next seemed almost a cruel joke instigated by time, wrenching the clock on their relationship backwards until it rested firmly in the vicinity of their first couple months together.

Emma had stormed off tearing through the families gathered by the inflatable midway with no regard for pleasantries. He had followed proffering apologies left and right to irritated parents watching forlornly as Emma harshly yanked on Moritz' lead every time he stopped to sniff.

The panic attack he had seen coming ever since the dog had started misbehaving took place in a blessedly unoccupied room beneath the grandstands.

By the time he had found her, huddled in a corner between two potted ears of corn, she had already been hyperventilating clutching as much of the oversized dog to her chest as she could. The whites visible in the retriever's eyes had expertly portrayed just how stressed the situation was making the dog, his tongue flicking out to run across his muzzle as though someone had smeared peanut butter on his nose. When Will had tried to disentangle him from her vice-grip Emma had shied away, guarding her face as though he had physically struck her, a reaction he still didn't understand, saying frantically that she couldn't move her arms unaware that she was doing just that.

Everything he had done to try and coax her to free the dog had failed and even though she had at one point hastily swatted his hand away she had only grown more hysterical about her muscles locking up persisting with the complaint throughout the entire ride back to her father's house, her left hand lying listlessly in her lap.

He had humored her then. Getting the door for her, not saying anything when she had gradually began to use her hand again. Unsure of how to address something she was undoubtedly familiar with but not recognizing in herself. It was only because of Dan's foresight that he knew what was going on. At the time he had laughed at the counselor's seemingly ludicrous suggestion but Emma, completely unaware, was having the last laugh.

Psychosomatic conditions presented themselves as real symptoms in both adults and children but had no physiological basis something he was certain Emma had learned about. They were often caused by extreme anxiety. The example Dan had given had been about the child so scared to give a presentation that they physically became sick. The symptom was definitely there it was just not a byproduct of the phobia, not really.

Anxiety however, was not the only cause. Almost any disorder could cue a psychosomatic response, a growing problem in the industry of clinical psychology. The person who truly believed they had chronic back pain and not major depression ignored the other symptoms to focus on the physical one ensuring they were often left untreated for the real problem. The only reason the conversation had come up to begin with was due to the high incidence of comorbidity between OCD, anxiety disorders and psychosomatic symptoms.

Boiling all the facts down to a bare definition was simple enough. Telling Emma something she believed to be real was all in her head and not somehow backhandedly calling her out as crazy was disgustingly complicated. Twice he had attempted to bring it up but both times they had ended up talking about the wedding that was growing closer every day. As it was now Will didn't feel comfortable addressing something that had happened roughly a month ago hedging a bet he hoped he wouldn't win that with the way her anxiety was growing he was going to be getting another chance.

Even Sophia had started to notice the changes.

She had called one evening while Emma had been away at her first support group meeting refreshingly blunt in her way about the growing concerns regarding her friend's mental state.

Apparently while out shopping for a dress Emma had barricaded herself in the dressing room refusing to model any gowns until Sophia assured her that no one else would be around to see her. That, in and of itself was not entirely out of character for Emma, what was out of character was Sophia finally crawling under the door to find her huddled in the corner of the stall half-dressed dibilitatingly paranoid that the other customers would wonder who would want to marry her.

Will didn't have any idea what was going on and probably against his better judgment he was hesitating to call someone. He had thought about contacting Dan on more than one occasion always backpedaling as soon as he dialed the number. Sometimes he felt like he put too much faith in titles. He meant no disrespect to anyone they had worked with but he knew Emma better than they did and if she wouldn't talk to him there was a very strong chance she wouldn't just freely open up to someone because of a few letters behind their name. He wouldn't. For as long as possible he wanted to keep things between them.

She was still taking her medications, still eating regularly and despite her manifesting social anxiety, still trying new things. He didn't want to undermine all of that with a phone call. That wasn't to say however, that he hadn't almost reconsidered. While in New York he had come dangerously close. Looking back now he could see the similarities between what she had done there and how she had acted with Sophia. A pattern he half-heartedly wished he wasn't recognizing.

New York had been amazing. They had come home with runner-up much to Rachel's dismay but considering the schools they had been up against Will had been more than pleased. He had surprised Emma with tickets to see Spring Awakening on Broadway, the students having earned their own money had worked with him to keep it a secret until the day of the show. Watching a musical that openly portrayed a sex scene with a group of high-schoolers had been interesting to say the least.

After the show everyone had retired to their hotel rooms. That was where things had started to go wrong. A small amount of wine had left Emma practically ripping off his clothes. He had never seen her tipsy before and truthfully under different circumstances he would love to get her drunk. If the evening had continued along that vein they probably wouldn't still be tossing around the idea of waiting. His control only stretched so far and an armful of a slightly inebriated red-head who knew exactly what she wanted was a test he was fairly certain he would always be destined to fail, gentlemanly aspirations or no.

He had managed to leave her long enough to get some ice forgetting his electronic key card in the process. When he had returned Emma had refused to let him in if there was another person in the hallway. It was New York, and he learned the hard way, as such, even the halls of a hotel passed as mass public transport. He had finally called her, tired of drawing curious stares from passerby at his reasoning with a door. For twenty minutes he had leaned against the wall just outside their room quelling his frustration in order to talk her down from a seemingly sudden onset of social phobia he didn't understand.

Her OCD was beginning to creep back into their lives, manifesting in little ways here and there like using a half bottle of soap to do the dishes an issue he had carefully brought to her attention while shopping only to have her downplay it as a reaction to stress. Will had wanted to laugh. Of course it was a reaction to stress. What troubled him was that the reaction was a new one and he didn't know where the stress was originating. She had borrowed on the same explanation when he had caught her crawling on her hands and knees plucking individual pieces of dog fur out of the living room carpet.

Something wasn't right, that much he knew for sure. It seemed so counter-intuitive that something he couldn't see could go wrong, cause so much trouble. One thing he had first-hand practical application for was that in dealing with mental disorders, especially the symptoms they evoked, nothing was concrete except the behavior. Mental disorders were like dogs in that way.

"Moritz, no! Bad dog!" Emma's voice rang through the apartment, the anger alone causing him to wince in anticipation of what he might find as he approached the bedroom.

Her patience for the antics of the adolescent retriever had been steadily waning. Yesterday Will had seen her impulsively pull at his ear to get his attention during a training session, the look of guilt that had followed immediately after heart-breaking. He had dutifully turned the other cheek when she had given him an entire Beggin' Strip in appeasement. She hadn't hurt the dog, she hadn't even phased him but the red flag for him to monitor their interactions a little closer had been raised.

Rounding the corner Will came to an abrupt, indecisive halt unsure of how to proceed after what he was staring at finally registered.

Moritz was cowering in the far corner of the bedroom his tail tucked between his legs, Emma's purse still clutched loosely between his jaws, scared eyes never once leaving the face of the threat that hovered above him.

"You fucking dog! Why the hell can't you leave my stuff alone?" Emma screamed shocking Will with her choice in words as she reached down to grab her purse, the way Moritz collapsed in on himself as Emma's hand dew nearer telling Will everything he needed to know.

The dog didn't have a mean bone in his body and Will had seen plenty of dogs that would already be growling if faced with this situation. All he did was crawl pitifully on his stomach, the purse forgotten by his paw as he made a desperate attempt to get away telling Emma in every way he could that he was perfectly willing to submit, that he was terrified.

Will noticed the wet carpet beneath him moments too late.

Submissive urination was just that, submissive. The doggy version of telling whoever they felt lower than in status that they were no more threatening than a puppy incapable of controlling its bladder. For Emma, much like the rest of the world, the gesture got lost in translation only adding fuel to the flames of her anger.

He could tell by her widened stance what was coming next. Even though he knew he wouldn't make it in time he launched himself in her direction wrapping his arms around her waist seconds after her foot connected harshly with the dogs' side causing Moritz to yelp in a combination of pain and shock as Will forcibly moved her away from the retriever.

His own anger was threatening to bubble to the surface spurred on by his rising fear over possible injuries to the animal that had been the recipient of a kick driven by nothing more than blind fury.

"Emma, sit down!" Will commanded harshly releasing his grip on her body as though she had burned him pointing angrily towards the bed.

She was in shock, what she had done undoubtedly sinking in. Still, he watched her until the back of her knees connected with the edge of the bed before he refocused his attention on Moritz.

"Hey buddy," he cooed softly keeping in mind that animals in pain, no matter their personality, were unpredictable as he gently reached out to stroke his front leg.

Watching the retriever's face out the corner of his eye Will gently placed his hands along the dog's side whispering that it was okay when he tried to bare his stomach, urinating all over himself simply not knowing what else to do. For a dog that to his knowledge had never been hit he couldn't even begin to imagine how traumatic this was. Tenderly he probed for broken ribs hanging his head in relief when he found none.

"Stay," he whispered, patting the dog's elbow reassuringly fairly positive that he wasn't going to go anywhere as he passed the bed not looking at Emma in search of paper towels.

Returning he paused momentarily in the doorway faced with the sudden realization that he wasn't ready to confront her yet. Emma was laying on her side, curled up into a ball, her shoulders shaking slightly. Moritz, still watching her with a wary eye, hadn't moved from his corner. They all needed time to cool down.

"Don't worry about it." He reasoned more with the dog than the woman behind him exhaling slowly when he noticed that Moritz was trembling as he began to soak up the mess.

"I'm going to go give him a bath." He spoke for the sake of shattering the deafening silence that had enveloped the room. "Come on guy." He coaxed gently getting nowhere, the dog too afraid to move.

Carefully Will picked him up not caring that his shirt was growing damp from his coat feeling oddly possessive, paternal, wanting only to comfort his unsuspecting friend caught in the cross hairs of a war he would never be able to comprehend.

* * *

"She didn't mean it you know." His voice echoed in the bathroom as he squeezed a large amount of shampoo into one hand. "Yeah," Will sighed when Moritz whined softly, his tail still tucked, shaking needlessly in the warm water. "I know, that doesn't make it any better for you."

With the care a doting father would lavish on their sick child Will lathered Moritz up covering his eyes with one hand so soapy water wouldn't run into them. The labels always said the shampoo wouldn't cause burning but he didn't trust it. He had a feeling if he were bathing his daughter or son he would trust it even less.

Moritz was nothing like his usual, water-loving self. He avoided Will's gaze, flinched when his hands came anywhere near his right side and whimpered pitifully. Other dogs, dogs used to being hurt would have brushed this off already but nothing had ever happened to make him feel unsafe around his masters and Will had been hoping to keep it that way, a promise he had made to himself after his first dog had passed away.

As a teenager when he had started training dogs he had used the only method he knew of, the one that had involved choke chains, harsh corrections and physically maneuvering the dog into whatever he wanted it to do. His childhood dog had broken down under the traditional training and Will had set out to find an alternative way to interact with his canine partner. He still remembered the sound the choke chain had made when it clattered to the bottom of their metal trash can. He hadn't touched one since. He hadn't laid a hand in anger on a dog since and he had promised himself that with his next dog he would start fresh, that it would never have a reason to fear him. Of course, at that age he hadn't factored a significant other into the equation.

Emma would never willingly hurt an animal. She cringed when he accidently stepped on anthills despite her intense hatred of the insects something he had always found curiously endearing until she had shyly admitted to loving the Disney movie Ants as a little girl. Whatever had caused her to react the way she did he was fairly certain it was related to everything else that was lobbying for attention on his mental list. This one however, because it affected another's life, Will wasn't going to wait until morning to address. Whether she wanted to talk or not he was discussing it even if she never said a word. Animal abuse was one of his very few soap box issues and he had an absolutely resolute zero tolerance policy especially when it was his own dog being on the receiving end.

The depth of sympathy he felt for Moritz astounded him. In a way he could relate to the dog's confusion having been physically assaulted by her in fits of rage in the past although he would never admit to calling it such. It was a contrast he didn't think he would ever get used to, seeing his shy, kind-hearted Emma lose control of her temper. At some point her anger was probably going to have to be brought up in therapy. It was more than evident now that it was going to be a problem.

"Okay bud, all done. Up." Will snapped his fingers an annoying habit he had recently picked up and waited for the dog to place his paws on the side of the tub.

From the time they had brought him home he had maintained that he was not going to be responsible for bathing an eighty plus pound adult dog that wouldn't hold still to be dried off. His aversion to water being flung everywhere probably rivaled Emma's.

Gently he toweled him down decreasing the pressure when he moved to his torso laughing slightly as Moritz came out of his shell to plant sloppy kisses all over his face.

"Will?" Emma's voice was muffled behind the door, tired, scared and weak.

The anger he thought had dissipated flared back to life as he relived watching her kick the squirming retriever in his arms.

"Not now Emma." He called out not wanting to have what for him was going to be a very heated discussion if he started it in his current state.

"Will, I'm sorry. I-"

"Not now Emma, please." He repeated his voice laced with frustration. "We'll talk later. I'm not mad."

"Yes you are." Came her soft reply, spoken in fear and accusation.

"Okay, yes I am." He whispered to Moritz than louder so the woman he could picture sitting defeated outside the door would hear, "I'll be out in a little bit."

Moritz was morphing back into the happy go lucky Chessie that Will knew attempting to chew on the towel that was now soaking wet.

"What did you want with her purse anyways?" Will questioned grabbing the dog's flews, gently shaking his head back and forth. "Tryin' to tell me something?"

Will stayed in the bathroom until he felt himself calm down alternating between playing tug of war with the towel, something he knew he would regret later, and just stroking the dogs' fur trying to figure out what he was going to say and how he was going to say it without offending the woman he knew now more than ever wasn't in control of her actions.

"I'm sorry." The words tumbled from her lips as soon as he opened the bathroom door. "I don't know…I'm sorry. How is he? Emma questioned tentatively beholding the dog that was currently hiding behind his legs with crestfallen eyes.

"Just scared but we need to talk." Will wasted no time tip-toeing around what had happened.

Dutifully she followed him back into the bedroom taking a seat on the edge of the bed when he requested she do so. Will sighed, this wasn't right. He felt like a parent disciplining a child standing over her the way he was.

"Come here." He kept his voice inviting as he sat down letting his back come to rest against the headboard.

Emma crawled over seeming to melt into his embrace the second his arms wrapped around her as though she were searching for some sort of physical assurance. He stayed that way with her for a while, silently threading his fingers through her hair, holding her close in an attempt to convey that despite what he was about to say he didn't hate her.

"There aren't many things that make me really angry but" He paused his heart constricting when he felt her warm tears against his chest, "hurting an animal because you're upset…that's unacceptable. It's like hurting a child Em, there's never a good reason. I don't know what is going on with you but I do know you wouldn't normally do that."

Will took his chin in her hand raising her face so that she was looking at him waiting until she met his eyes. "That, however, doesn't change the fact that you did kick him, hard."

He watched the tears fill her eyes one by one cascading down her cheeks as he tried and failed to push the image of Moritz shying away from her hand when she had gone for her purse. A dog's body language was like an autobiography if one took the time to read it.

"Have you hit him before?" He asked as unassumingly as he could.

"Yes." Emma whispered her breath warm against his skin. "I don't mean to. I just get so consumed with this anger and he's there and…I'm sorry."

Will frowned when she repositioned herself drawing her knees up closer to her chest, resting her head against his shoulder, one pant leg rolling up to reveal a series of fist-sized bruises along her right calf.

"Have you hit yourself?" He questioned gently pushing aside one issue to address another he felt equally serious reaching down to raise her pant leg higher silently letting her know that he knew the answer whether she chose to respond or not.

"Not often." She mumbled burying her face in his shoulder.

"That's a lot of bruises for not often." Slowly he traced them with his hand, counting seven.

"Sometimes, I just hate myself." She offered the heartbreakingly honest explanation he hadn't intended to press for.

Letting the back of his head collide with the headboard Will closed his eyes. If she was hitting herself it was very likely she was cutting and recently, as a part of her recovery, she had been making trips to the store on her own.

"Have you done anything else, anything more serious than hitting? He needlessly clarified what he was implying without using the words.

"Scratching." Emma confessed her voice wavering with unshed tears.

Once again he moved his hand down to her knee gently tugging on the material of her pants unable to stop the heavy sigh that spilled out of his mouth when he saw the angry red lines that criss-crossed her skin.

"Okay." He replied, for the moment defeated, not possessing the physical or emotional energy to take his inquiry any farther.

Subtly he patted the space beside him granting Moritz the permission he had been waiting for to join them in bed something Emma had given into much to Will's surprise after he had fallen asleep on her stomach as a puppy as she had been reading watching in unspoken understanding as the dog chose to lay next to him instead of her.

Cautiously Emma reached out her hand recoiling sharply when the retriever squeezed his eyes closed seconds before she would have touched him.

"He hates me." She sniffled regarding the dog with a pained expression. "I would hate me to."

"He doesn't hate you." Will gently grabbed her hand placing it on the back of the dog's neck. "He's just scared. He just needs you to show him it's okay."

Moritz visibly relaxed when Emma began to tentatively run her fingers through his coat eventually turning around to carefully lick at her arm.

"See, good as new." Will pointed out knowing that it was anything but. Given the dog's sensitive nature it would probably take days for him to be comfortable around her again and every time she flew into a rage he would likely hide, the one bad time outweighing all the good.

In a way having the dog had become like a sort of barometer for Emma's moods. When she was frustrated he seemed to walk on egg shells much like he had done at the beginning of their relationship, slinking from room to room throwing cautious glances over his shoulder to make sure she didn't follow. If she walked into the living room he would leave, his eyes always fixated on her even though he never looked directly at her. Will had noticed the signs weeks ago but hadn't thought much about it, at the time he had been angry too and figured if anything the dog had been feeding off of his emotions not hers.

Emma's temper was not limited to unleashing itself around the dog. He himself had been the unwilling recipient of tiny tidal waves of anger usually fueled by some sort of logic he had long ago deemed incontrovertible.

Last week Emma had accused him of cheating on her.

She had seen him having coffee with Holly one afternoon after school was out. The woman had offered and he had taken her up on it relieved to just interact with the substitute who had become a close friend ever since they had talked about Emma that day in the lounge.

For whatever reason Emma had chosen that particular afternoon to indulge in the white caramel machiotto coffee that had been a huge hurdle at one point, causing heaps of undue stress regarding the concept of liquid calories. It had been his crap luck that his back had been to the door ensuring that Holly noticed Emma before he did. He had been in the middle of a story about some antic Puck had pulled in New York, free to laugh at what he had pretended to deem serious constrained by the role of being a teacher. Emma had misconstrued this as flirting. He hadn't even known she was in the same building until Holly had brought it to his attention. He had spent the entire night convincing her that he wasn't going to leave her for another woman.

As gently as possible he slid himself out from underneath Emma ordering her to stay with the dog as he headed off in the direction of the mess that curiously, seemed to be bothering him more than her. He sat down next to her purse, its contents still strewn haphazardly across the carpet and slowly began placing them back inside in no real order occasionally glancing up at Emma and surprised when her eyes widened as his fingers closed around a tiny blue box with a taped on lid. For a moment he considered asking what was inside but figured he had done enough prying for one night. It appeared to be a jewelry box, for all he knew it could be a necklace that had belonged to her mother.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma's hand relaxed its death grip on the hunk of Moritz' coat she had reflexively latched onto when Will had picked up the box eternally grateful that she had taken the time to not only tape the lid on but also pack it with cotton to muffle the tell-tale rattling of the pills she couldn't bring herself to take or throw away.

She felt horrible about what she had done to Moritz. Truthfully she didn't know where the anger had come from. It had just been cropping up now and again always taking her off guard and almost always having disasterous consequences.

Will's words about not knowing what had gotten into her were puzzling. She didn't feel any different and as far as she knew she wasn't really acting all that differently. Sure there were scratches on her leg but she had always known it would be a matter of time before the self-hatred barreled back into her life.

Doing certain things had become more difficult but not alarmingly so. The incident with Sophia in the dressing room had been out of the ordinary she supposed but it had been a particularly stressful day and she knew she hadn't mistaken the stares she had seen thrown in her direction when she had tried on the first gown, the ones questioning why anyone would want to marry someone who was crazy.

* * *

A/N: Please let me know what you think. It seems a horrible juxtaposistion that I enjoyed writing this chapter, seeing Will's thoughts on what is going on come to light.


	44. Chapter 43

**Chapter Forty-Three**

**Emma's POV**

The Famer's market Will had taken her to had proven to be nothing but humiliating. She hadn't been able to try any of the fruit despite the vendors claiming it was fresh and the entire time she had felt as though people were watching her, mocking her, waiting for her to do something socially unacceptable so they could laugh openly instead of hiding it.

Will had not been oblivious to her growing distress and had finally stopped them in front of a watermelon vendor, in his caring way asking what was wrong. In that moment Emma could have sworn she had felt every last person staring at her, breathing down her neck, waiting for her answer.

Finally she had told him she was nervous and he complied when she had closed her eyes against the crowds of people shoving past her talking happily while she felt like her world was closing in, asking if they could please just go home.

She was sick of being so paranoid around people. It had only gotten worse since New York. Some days she was afraid to leave the house if she caught sight of her neighbors in their yard. Their exchanges had always been nothing but friendly but she would become paralyzed just inside the door the instant she heard their voices convinced they would only talk behind her back if she went outside. So far she had managed to push past her fear but she could tell it was only a matter of time before it got the best of her.

One day she had been late to work because a man had been standing in the hallway talking with the landlord about a plugged toilet. She had stood there with her hand on the doorknob terrified of facing the people she had at one time amiably conversed with, wondering if the landlord would call her out on something she was doing wrong.

If she could have gotten away with it she would have called in sick but she had used so many days already and she only had a few left. In the end she had called Figgins and explained that she had overslept using the anxiety that hadn't disappeared to fuel her frantic tones.

Will had acted differently then she had expected when she told him why she hadn't been in her office that morning before school for their planned meeting after he had left early to help a Spanish student prepare for the final exam. Instead of calling her out on what even she could tell he was absolutely positive was a lie he had simply nodded and walked off almost as though he didn't want to deal with whatever the real reason was.

She had avoided him for the rest of the day having lunch with Shannon in the locker room instead of with him in her office. He had finally sought her out after school, apologizing for the way he had acted but never offering any explanation. For a moment it had looked like he was going to but thought better of it at the last second.

Desperately Emma rifled through her purse, closing the bathroom door gently behind her as she dumped the contents on the floor her fingers latching onto the small blue box that had become her pillar in a storm of things she didn't understand.

She dug the cotton out, pills spilling across the floor as she dumped the razors that lined the bottom into her palm calming only to inspect each one slowly, relishing in the dried blood that deflected the glint of the harsh lighting.

She didn't even bother getting in the tub. Instead she yanked her pants down and searched her leg, running her fingers over the scars that had faded to an off-white with time as she looked for the perfect spot.

Everything had gone so wrong in the past few months and Will's increasingly odd behavior was taking its toll. In the back of her mind she had begun to wonder if he was finally growing fed up with everything, in the front of her mind was the burning fear that he was planning on leaving her. That was why she had reacted so strongly when she had seen him laughing with Holly.

Not wasting any time Emma pressed the blade against her skin briefly allowing herself to wonder what she was doing before she bore down wincing at the sting that she welcomed whole-heartedly. It stopped the thoughts and worries she couldn't control.

Carefully she worked, more hesitant than usual about going very deep something that surprised her. Usually that was the last thing on her mind but today as she sat half-clothed on the bathroom floor blood flowing down her leg to gather at her side she couldn't help but feel uneasy about the process she had once perfected.

"Stop this." She whispered to herself. "Stop and go tell him. He always wants you to tell him, just go tell him. Think of what he would do if he found out that you kept it a secret. You don't have to do this." Emma worked hard to counteract the voice telling her the opposite, that she deserved this, needed it because she was pathetic enough to be so controlled by her anxiety.

Hastily she grabbed at some toilet paper, dabbing at the cut trying to ignore the voice screaming that it wasn't bad enough.

"No! I don't need to do this. I can handle things like a normal person. I don't need this!" She screamed loud enough that if Will had been in the hall he would have heard.

She jerked her pants up, praying the toilet paper would stay in place long enough for her to get to Will as she gathered the razors into her hand, making a fist as if the action would prevent her from grabbing one as she wrenched the door open and took off down the hall whispering that she was doing the right thing.

For one uncertain moment she paused just outside the kitchen unwilling to disturb the peaceful tranquility that had taken so long to set in. She could picture him, sitting at the table, glasses pushed up high on his nose, reading a book about dogs, completely unaware of the drama waiting to crash into his life. With a deep breath she rounded the corner.

"Take them from me!" She blurted holding out her hand wanting to physically recoil from the dark desperation in her voice, the confusion written all over his face as he looked up from his reading, the confusion that seeped seamlessly into her own.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will set his book down as carefully as he could not saying anything as he reached his hand out to meet hers halfway. Slowly she released her grip on whatever she was holding, pieces of something he couldn't identify falling gently into his palm.

"I'm sorry." She whispered frantically wiping her hand on her pants, backing away, leaving in a nervous flurry before he could ask what it was that she was sorry for.

Cautiously he opened the fist he hadn't been aware he had made his eyes opening in shock.

In his hand lay fourteen bloodied, disposable razors, crusted over with brown, some almost solid, the one leaving a fresh smear across his skin instantly demanding his attention.

"Emma, no." He said to no one but himself squeezing his eyes closed against the moment he wished would fade away; leave them alone.

He wanted to scream at her, accuse her, do anything it took to get her to see what she was doing to herself, what she was doing to them, the memory of his angry words that day in her office quelling his impulse as he let the razors clatter to the table moving to the sink to wash his hands, using liberal amounts of soap knowing what he would find when he found her.

"Can I come in?" Will asked leaning his forehead against the bathroom door, his hand on the doorknob; waiting.

"It's open." Emma called out in response.

Will was turning the handle before the second word reached his ears, stepping inside, steeling himself against the smell of blood that attacked his nose, slowly shutting the door behind him intent on not giving her the chance to run, intent on getting answers.

She was sitting on the toilet, her pants pushed down to her ankles, a hastily opened box of band-aids at her feet, an opened tube of Neosporin on the counter to her left. The fact that she was attempting to take care of what she had done on her own giving him hope.

"Thank you for giving them to me." Will grabbed the stool Emma used for reaching the top shelves, deciding to let her continue, able to tell from his vantage point that the cut wasn't as severe as the others.

Emma didn't say anything only nodding as she worked to free a large band-aid from its wrapper.

"Do you use the same blades over again? Some of them were pretty…dirty." He amended his word choice..

"I used to, yes." She confessed with a heavy sigh.

"That's dangerous, the risk of infection is so much higher if they aren't clean." He felt like he was talking in circles, saying things that she already knew but didn't care about.

"I didn't care Will." She single-handedly reinforced what he had been thinking.

The fact that there had been fourteen unnerved him. It meant that she had been picking them up over time, hoarding them in case she felt the need to use them. Her only saving grace at the moment was the fact that she had willingly given them to him in order to stop, if it weren't for that he knew he would be angry and he hated that knowledge.

"How long have you been collecting those?" He inquired with an unassuming tone.

"A while." Emma replied wincing slightly as she pressed the bandage against her skin.

"Yeah, that's what I figured. Look," Will cut himself off realizing that even if he did suggest shopping together she would still be able to find time to buy them if she really wanted to. "Emma, what's going on?" He changed angles, relaxing his posture, letting his elbows rest on his knees. "Do we need to see about getting you on different medication, because I will call."

"I stopped taking it." She whispered so delicately he almost didn't catch it.

"You what?" Will questioned in alarm unwilling to believe what he had just heard.

"I stopped taking it, in Virginia." Emma clarified hanging her head in shame.

Will felt like a dagger was being driven into his stomach when he thought about all of the times he had given her the pill only to walk away assuming she had taken it.

"Why? There must be a reason." He cornered her before she could say she didn't know.

Emma stood keeping her back to him as she pulled up her pants growing completely still before she took a deep shuddering breath and turned to face him, her face conflicted.

"I don't want to do what he did." She confessed with a small sob.

"What who did?" Will asked in confusion, not knowing who she was talking about.

"Nash, I don't want to do what he did." Emma spoke as though he should understand her perfectly.

"What?" He asked again still unable to wrap his head around the one hundred eighty degree turn in their conversation.

"Don't you get it?" Emma demanded forcefully driving her hand into the wall behind her. "I have to go off my meds if I get pregnant! I have to go off them if we so much as try! They cause birth defects Will!

"God, is that what this is about? Is that why you did this?" Will spoke in clipped tones, her frustration fueling his own. "You wanted to see if you could handle it? All of this has been about something that hasn't happened yet, something that might not happen? You might be perfectly fine. You weren't stable when you stopped, you can't make predictions based off of this." He waved his hands in the general direction of her standing up, no longer able to remain sitting.

"And what if I give our child OCD? What if it's a girl and she develops an eating disorder? What if I don't feed them properly?" Emma paused gulping for air her face growing flushed. "What if I hurt them the way I did Moritz, the way I've done you?"Her voice tore off harshly, victimized by the breathing that was rapidly growing out of her control.

"Damnit," Will whispered soft enough she wouldn't hear uneasy with the knowledge that there was no medication in her system to temper the panic attack he had been waiting for.

Reaching behind him Will slowly opened the door. Getting her away from anything that could potentially cause harm had proven wise in the past. Carefully he moved towards her dropping to one knee, touching her gently on the shoulder.

"I need you to stand okay?" Emma made no attempt to move so he slid one arm under her knees wrapping the other behind her shoulders and picked her up the way he had done Moritz.

Turning sideways so they would fit through the door he carried her to the living room shoving the coffee table aside with one foot slowly lowering her to the ground. Her eyes were squeezed shut and for a moment he was envious wanting to do the same himself. He watched silently as her anxiety took over working to keep himself calm on the off chance it would rub off on her.

He tried to take the advice he had recently gotten from Dan, to let her work through it on her own and not intervene but the idea of leaving her like this repulsed him. The way she was now was no different than the thunder-phobic dogs he had seen. She hated this as much as he did. He was in no danger of reinforcing her panic.

"Will, I can't move!" Emma cried out grasping wildly at the carpet, her fingers flexing almost automatically as her body contorted.

"Emma, sweetie, it's in your head. You can move." Gently he grabbed one of her hands squeezing reassuringly. "You're okay." He whispered brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face.

Finally he gave in completely, pulling her to him the way he had the night he had discovered her about to throw up the cookies from her mother, holding her tightly against his chest, rocking them back and forth slightly.

"Listen, Emma, match my breathing." He spoke softly working to force his breathing to become elongated and even, finding a rhythm he hoped she would follow.

Gradually she began to calm down, her breaths slowly becoming timed with his own, warm tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt the signal that she was unwinding. He had been intending to find a way to tell her that she couldn't keep doing this. That she had to stop worrying about things that hadn't happened yet when her words stopped him in his tracks.

"What if I can't get pregnant?" She asked, her whispered fear striking a dissonant chord with the one he had only recently allowed himself to really consider.

"Emma, I think right now we need to focus on getting you better, the rest can come later." He placed a chaste kiss to the top of her head relieved when nothing but silence met his deflection of the question he suddenly realized he wasn't going to be able to discuss out loud.

* * *

They had moved to the living the kitchen, both silently staring at the pile of razors between them.

"We need to call your psychiatrist. You need to get back on your meds. I don't think you realize where you were these last few months. At times," Will paused taking a breath letting his hand find hers, "I didn't recognize you."

"Where's Moritz?" Emma suddenly looked around the room, almost frantically searching for the dog.

"He's probably hiding somewhere." Will said as easily as he could.

"What have I done to him?" Emma groaned her head falling into her hands. "I can't believe I kicked him."

"You're not yourself right now." He assured her releasing his grip on her hand to slide the razors over the edge of the table, standing up to grab a Ziploc bag, placing both in his pocket to dispose of later when she wouldn't see where they went.

"I don't know who myself is." Emma confessed watching as he sat down again. "Sometimes I don't think I've ever known. Sometimes I think everything I might be gets lost in the shadow of some disorder." She stood crossing her arms over her chest protectively her eyes boring into his. "I hate taking a pill every day knowing that if I don't I won't be _normal._ Do you have any idea what that's like?"

"Yes," Will whispered his voice breaking as he took a deep breath in preparation for the confession he had been searching for a way to reveal. "I'm on Prozac again."

Emma blinked processing his words taking a step forward, reaching her hand out as if she wanted to comfort him, all movement ceasing just as quickly as it had begun. They stood there, facing each other, their secrets, their reality.

The day after she had found out she had been scratching her leg he had made an appointment with her psychiatrist. He had been surprised at how hard it was to make the call, to admit that something wasn't right, this time with himself.

For a while he had been pushing aside the growing sensation of defeat that had been creeping into his life convinced he would wake up one morning to find it had left. His nonchalant acceptance of Emma hurting herself had been the shove he needed to seek a professional opinion knowing that if he didn't get help he would lose his ability to help her.

He hadn't been diagnosed instead they had talked about the stress of living with a significant other that was mentally unstable, speaking in hushed tones about how difficult it was for both parties. The man had reasoned that he was becoming overwhelmed and that if they didn't act soon that could morph into Major Depression. He had sat in the waiting room for an hour after the appointment, clutching the prescription tightly in one hand wanting to tear it in half and forget the entire thing floored and confused that a form of something he was battling with Emma was capable of reaching him too wondering why it had taken so long to set in.

The decision to keep his appointment and subsequent addition to the medicine cabinet a secret had been easy. Actually doing it had been anything but. He would sneak the pill in the mornings when he used the bathroom thankful for the routine so long established she never thought twice about it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Emma asked instead of accused like he had expected.

"I didn't want you to blame yourself." He answered honestly, stepping towards her, gathering her into his arms, placing her head beneath his chin.

"What else could it be Will? She sniffled loudly against his shirt.

"Not enough Serotonin." He quipped smiling when he heard her surprised chuckle.

"Well, I would give you some but I'm afraid I don't have enough either." Emma joked backing away from him slightly, a small smile on her face.

"You asked me if I knew what it was like to take meds to function." Will began, crossing the kitchen, pulling her into the living room. "I had the same problem Em. I didn't want to admit to myself that even though I wasn't officially diagnosed, the possibility was there. I finally had to rely on that phsyio crap you hold so dear." He grinned settling them both down on the couch, Emma snuggling into his side. "Every morning I tell myself that it's not me that crazy but the chemicals in my brain. Maybe," he reached over gently tickling her, "you should try that."

"Is it a bad thing if I find your taking Prozac oddly comforting?" Emma questioned through her laughter trying unsuccessfully to get away.

"No," Will responded continuing his attack on her torso.

"It's just that I always think of you as invincible, perfect…and then there's medicated to fit into society, me."

Will stopped ticking her regarding her with a serious expression. "I'm none of those things. I'm human just like you and now," He smirked leaning in to steal a kiss. "We are both playing chemist. Sorry to dash your delusions of grandeur about my super human qualities."

"How are you so accepting?" Emma questioned tangling her fingers with his.

"Trust me, I wasn't okay with it at first. Despite my telling you over and over that taking an anti-depressant doesn't make you crazy that is exactly how I felt to the rest of the world." Will reached into his back pocket pulling out a folded piece of notebook paper. "I even wrote about it. I've been meaning to give this to you."

Emma took the paper with a smile, warmed that he had taken so well to the medium therapy had introduced to their lives and began to read instantly drawn in by the honesty he never ceased to amaze her with.

_I get overwhelmed too. Exhausted, frustrated…lost. Sometimes I have absolutely no idea how to help you._

_Do you remember that day in the teacher's lounge when I tried to get you to eat those unwashed blueberries? How mad I got? I don't have enough words to adequately apologize for that. The only thing I can tell you is that in that moment I felt completely hopeless, like I was up against a brick wall with nothing but my bare hands to try and tear it down._

_Sometimes I feel like you are afraid to completely let go of who you were, that you are afraid to let yourself be happy. Whether that is because you feel you don't deserve it or because it just feels so strange, I don't know but I hope you figure it out soon because I 'm really quite fond of that confident, care-free woman that dares to show her face once in a while. I want to get to know her better._

_There are lots of things I want to do with you Emma. Silly things, like getting you drunk, serious things, like making love for the first time, hopelessly romantic things like being able to introduce you as my wife. _

_All of these things though I feel are put on hold and I'm okay with that because I know how hard this is for you but to be honest, it's frustrating, watching as you move backwards when you were doing so well._

_There's a bottle of prescription pills sitting next to me as I write this, SSRI's you would be happy to know I remember. Actually, your psychiatrist was quite impressed with my knowledge of psychopharmacology._

_Right now I feel like I understand you more than I ever have. I don't want to take these pills. I don't want to be medicated…I don't want you to think it is because of you. I always tell you that you aren't crazy for taking medications but right now I think I need someone to tell me that because I'm realizing first-hand just how hard that is to believe. Even without a diagnosis seeing Schuester, William on that bottle makes me feel like checking into a hospital._

_I wish I were joking._

_The first time I went on Prozac I hid it because I was embarrassed, because we had just started going out and I wanted to make the best possible impression. I wasn't aware I was reinforcing a stigma. This time around I'm going to hide it because I don't want to damage your progress. Someday I will tell you, maybe by giving you this._

_They are staring at me, the pharmacists, probably wondering about the guy who got his anti-depressant only to sit down and write. I wanted to get my thoughts in order before heading home. _

_I like writing to you, it's relaxing, sometimes easier to say the things I don't know how to address. I miss those therapy exercises you used to come home with. They gave me so much insight into how you think and feel, what your fears are, your secrets. So, I'm going to let them stare, here; a list of things I haven't quite figured out how to say._

_Secrets_

_1. When I look at you I don't see your disorder. I see the woman that stole my heart when she let me brush chalk off of her nose, adorable, determined and strong._

_2. I dread the panic attacks too. They are just as difficult for me as they are for you I think. I hate seeing you that way._

_3. I've researched the probability of us having a child with OCD and even though the risk is there I'm willing to take it of you are._

_4. I'm actually more worried about the eating disorder, about the high incidence of relapse after pregnancy, about the behaviors a small child could unknowingly imitate believing they are normal because it is what mommy does._

_5. It's estimated that ten percent of anorexics die within ten years of the disease setting in which makes it the most fatal of all the mental disorders. Five percent of those of woman never truly recover. _

_6. I believe you are recovered Emma, at least from the anorexia. If there is even the slightest chance that you're getting pregnant would jeopardize that, if you feel you wouldn't be able to handle the weight gain…well, that's a risk I'm not willing to take._

_7. I know there is a chance you won't be able to get pregnant because of the eating disorder. I've looked it up, that chance considering the time you were severely ill is slim but if it happens, know that it won't change how I feel about you._

_8. We can adopt._

_9. I'm only spending so much time on this topic because I know you think about it every day. Honestly, I think we have enough to work through right now before this is really even a real topic of discussion but I'm willing to talk about it if you want to. I know how important it is to you._

_10._

"Where's ten?" Emma asked blinking past her tears to focus on Will.

"It's not a secret that I love you." He said quietly leaning in for a kiss.

"You would really be okay with adoption?" Emma questioned glancing back down at the paper still held in her hands.

More than anything else she wanted to give him a child, their child, but sometimes it all seemed impossibly daunting, far away, threatening.

"Yes, I would." Will answered easily pulling back against him and wrapping his arms around her upper half, bringing one hand up to comb it through her hair. "If, for whatever reason, it was the best or only option, yes. Like I said I'm open to discussion but right now Emma I really think we need to concentrate on pulling you back from this. All of these things, they aren't going to go anywhere."

* * *

The next morning Will made the call to her psychiatrist managing to get them in that afternoon after he had explained the increasing severity of the anxiety she could no longer control.

With worried eyes he had called the school and said she was sick when the presence of the elderly gentleman she had often exchanged pleasantries with mowing the lawn had left her too afraid to leave the complex.

She had sat crying with her back against the door wondering how she had let things get so out of hand without noticing apologizing profusely to Will as he rushed off to work but not before he assured her with a kiss that it would all be sorted out at the appointment.

Will had gone with her when she had slowly followed her psychiatrist back into his office gently prodding her to tell that she had stopped taking her meds having already told her that it was her responsibility to inform the doctor before they had gotten out of the car. It had been one of the most embarrassing things she had ever done remembering how she had once convinced a young student of the importance of taking his own medication to control his Attention-Deficit-Hyperactivity Disorder.

Once again she hadn't noticed when the questions began to shift their focus from general, everyday inquiries into the realm of symptomatic behavior. They hadn't seemed invasive at all, she had merely felt like she was holding a conversation with a trusted friend, the tact in which h had delivered them a testament to his skill as a psychiatrist.

She had responded honestly agreeing that her panic attacks had become more frequent and often lasted longer, disagreeing when he asked if they ever came out of nowhere. As far as she had been aware there was always something that triggered them. Again the questions had shifted and again she had been completely oblivious as she confirmed his suspicion that she existed in an almost diffuse state of anxiety that had begun to interfere with her life. Even Will had spoke up about how much she worried obsessively about things that hadn't happened when the question had rolled around.

She had answered honestly and walked out crying into his shoulder clutching at a prescription for Lamictal and a mild tranquilizer to be used if she felt a panic attack coming on. The Lamictal would take a couple months to build up in her system, the risk of a potentially fatal rash the reason she would be increasing her dosage by twenty-five milligrams every week until they found the dose she needed. Her starting point was twenty-five milligrams. The average dosage was two hundred. The fact that she had such a torturous road ahead of her wasn't what bothered her. What bothered her is that she had answered honestly and gained nothing but the diagnosis of Generalized Anxiety Disorder in return.

Another disorder, another medication, a merry-go-round that sometimes she feared would never end.

* * *

A/N: Just a point of clarfication no one but I might catch, Emma's comment about only a girl child developing an eating disorder is based solely on the reesarch that shows a genetic component between mothers and daughters. That I have know of, no research has been done on mothers and sons.

Let me know what you think. I'm a bit nervous about what you all feel about the development with Will. I've been planning it for a while now and finally decided to work it in feeling he will be able to help Emma.


	45. Chapter 44

A/N: Little bit of everything in this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Four**

**Will's POV**

"Emma, you have to take it." Will spoke softly, startling her from his position in the doorway.

He had been watching her stare at the tablet on the table in front of her for five minutes finally deciding to intervene when it became apparent that starting medication again wasn't going to be as simple for her as it had become for him.

"I don't want to do this anymore." She said, defeat creeping into her voice as she angled her head up at him making no move towards the pill.

"Sweetie," Will began, pausing momentarily when he thought about how he would feel if the roles were reversed, if she were the one telling him what he was about to tell her. "You really don't have a choice. You need it."

"Sometimes, I think I know too much." Emma took him off-guard with her response as she carefully reached for the pill. "I know exactly what I'm doing when I stop. I know exactly what will happen. I know that for a while, while the drug is still in my system I will feel amazing and then," She paused rolling the pill in her palm, "then the symptoms come back and pretty soon I'm too overwhelmed to start again." She took a deep breath regarding him with conflicted eyes. "And I know that's a symptom too, and I know I can make it all go away, so why is this so hard?"

"I don't know." Will answered honestly. "Are you afraid of what it might do to you, negative side-effects?" He asked tentatively.

Last night he had read through the impossibly folded paper that detailed the possible side-effects of the drug she was about to take, holding his breath that Emma either decided not to read them or didn't know much about the pill when he had found reports of weight gain. He didn't want to travel that road. Emma gaining weight of her own accord was one thing, putting on weight because of a medication she already didn't want to take would be another one entirely, one she would likely rebel against. For both their sake's he hoped that for her, the Lamictal was weight-neutral.

"Yes, but it's more than that." She reasoned more with herself than him. "I get so mad at myself because I know that what I'm holding in my hand has the potential to let me live a normal life and I'm afraid to take it."

"Are you afraid of that, afraid of being…normal?" Will winced feeling like he had just back-handedly called her abnormal relieved when she continued without calling him out.

"Yes," she answered simply. "It's just that I've lived with this version of myself for so long that I'm scared to leave it all behind. The only way I can describe it is that it feels like moving away from home for the first time."

That Will couldn't relate to. When he had moved out for college getting away from his mother had been the only thing on his mind. Emma, he had gathered from conversations here and there supplemented by his own personal theories, had been just the opposite.

"Tell you what," He crossed the kitchen, kneeling down beside her, sliding the untouched water closer, "just try it, just for a bit and if it doesn't work we will find something else."

Emma glanced down sharply, confusion evident in her eyes. "Just for a bit?"

"I know that sometimes it's hard to do something when you feel like you are committing yourself to it forever. So, just for a few weeks, try it and see what happens." He clarified.

He realized what he was telling her to do would probably have every psychiatrist known to mankind glaring daggers at him but at the moment, if it meant it would at least get her to try, he didn't care.

"You're bribing me." Emma smiled, calling him out with an incredulous smirk.

"Is it working?" He smiled back.

"Just for a bit?" She questioned again taking the glass of water and raising the pill to her lips.

"Just for a bit." He assured squeezing her knee in encouragement as she swallowed the tablet.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Just for a bit had turned into five weeks and for the first time in a long time Emma was remembering what it felt like to feel normal. She no longer froze in fear while trying to take the dog outside if she heard someone behind the door and for the last few weeks of school she had successfully gone to work without once having to call in sick. She had even made it to graduation something that in the past had always been cause for panic attacks. This was the first year she had even gone to a few graduation parties with Will along for moral support.

Will was the only person she knew who could turn taking anti-depressants into a game. Every morning they would race to the kitchen, whoever was the first to successfully swallow their pill would get control of the remote that evening. Good-naturedly they would attempt to thwart the other. She had been known to slam a door or two in his face and accidently trip him in the hallway. It really had turned into a form of a competition but no matter what he would always stick around to make sure she took hers.

At night when she had to take a second dose he would follow her into the kitchen under the guise of wanting a snack or a glass of water. She always knew exactly what she was doing but it didn't bother her. She wasn't trying to hide anything, not this time.

She had come to rely on his advice. Telling herself it was the chemicals in her brain that weren't quite right and not herself and after the first couple weeks she had learned to regard the medication has nothing more than a somewhat bothersome necessity.

The improvements in Will were immense. He gained back the boyish enthusiasm she hadn't realized he had lost having been too caught up in her own problems. He spent more time with Moritz just playing instead of training, racing around behind the apartment building as though he didn't have a care in the world. A couple times she had joined him.

Will was helping her to slowly regain Moritz's trust, a process that was doing wonders for her confidence. Emma had never considered herself a dog trainer but Will was changing that too. He would show her how to start a trick, sticking around long enough to make sure she had the idea before disappearing into another room to work on some domestic chore that didn't need to be done, leaving her alone with the retriever. Every few minutes he would pass through the room something that always made Emma work harder, never knowing when he might decide to stay and watch.

He had her on a variable schedule of reinforcement the way she had the dog on one.

She had discovered a thrilling sense of excitement when Moritz would finally pick up on what she was trying to teach him. The first thing she would do is call Will into the room, forcing him to stop whatever he was doing to come and see what she had accomplished.

Today she was teaching him how to crawl and getting nowhere.

"Here," Will sat down beside her seeming to appear out of nowhere. "Force him to have to go underneath your leg, like this." She watched as Will held one leg off the ground leaving just enough room for the dog moving his hand underneath it so that Moritz had to crawl through in order to get it.

"How do you know all of this?" Emma questioned applauding softly when the retriever successfully crawled a few inches and earned his treat.

"My dog as a boy was spring-loaded and wouldn't stay down very long. She also taught me that some dogs have no sense of balance and are best taught to Beg in a corner in case they fall over." He smiled shoving a pile of treats in her direction.

Emma took the pieces of chicken proud of herself for being able to handle the moist tidbits without running for a wash cloth and resituated herself the way she had seen Will do, one leg stretched out in front of her, the other barely raised off the ground.

"Crawl." She coaxed waving her hand to get the dog's attention.

"Sientate." Will looked her straight in the eye as he spoke acting as though he was waiting for her to do something.

"What?" Emma stopped working with the dog and stared in confusion.

"Sientate." Will said again this time with more force.

"Will, I don't know what you are saying." Emma frowned, the word sounded familiar but she couldn't place it.

"Exactly." Will smiled. "Now imagine yourself as Moritz hearing a word he doesn't know."

"What?" Emma questioned again this time staring down at the dog that watching attentively in case she dropped a piece of chicken.

"He doesn't know what crawl means." Will explained. "To him it is just a noise, background noise. What he is focused on is getting that treat. Try it again but don't talk to him." He advised moving to the side so she had more room.

Again Emma held her hand just beneath her leg feeling ridiculous as she waited for the dog to do something. Eventually he tentatively moved one paw forward sliding his body across the floor barely an inch.

"Give it to him!" Will exclaimed excitedly from his position just behind her.

"He didn't-" Emma began only to be cut off when Will explained that it was close enough and that next time she should wait a little bit longer to see if he would crawl further.

Suddenly Emma understood where Will got his seemingly never-ending supply of patience. What she was doing with the dog right now was eerily similar to the way he had treated her during her eating disorder, setting up the situation so her chances of success were better than those that she would fail, rewarding her with smiles, kisses and gentle touches when she did something right even if it was only a small step in the correct direction.

"You have been training me like a dog!" Emma accused good-naturedly, throwing a piece of chicken over her shoulder hoping it would hit Will.

"Hey!" He laughed sending the chicken into her lap. "And it worked a lot of the time." He murmured wrapping his arms around her waist and scooting up behind her so that his chest was pressed against her back.

"It's still horrible." Emma attempted to continue her protest as his lips found her neck trailing kisses, realizing when she felt her body start to tingle that she would never succeed.

She rolled her head to the side, a silent plea for him to continue. He got the idea moving his lips along the side of her neck until he reached her collarbone. Emma moaned when his fingers found her waist, tickling their way under her shirt, sliding up her torso.

"Will can we at least go somewhere where the dog isn't two feet away?" She asked thwarting his attempt to remove her shirt.

"Training session's over bud. Found something better to do." He mumbled between kisses, standing, pulling her along as he headed for the bedroom closing the door as soon as they were both inside."Problem solved." He smirked backing her towards the bed, she allowed him to succeed in his second go at ridding her of her shirt.

Emma shivered as she let him push her down onto the bed, bringing her hands up to run through his hair while he kissed his way down her stomach lingering by her belly button before continuing down, stopping at the waistband of her jeans. Impatiently she arched her back knowing he would get the hint. She wanted to feel him against her. His hands wasted no time in granting her wish as they worked to slide her pants off, throwing them carelessly to the floor.

Her undergarments didn't last long, quickly added to the pile. She lost the ability to think when his mouth dared to travel to places it hadn't touched since their time in the shower, her orgasm ripping through her when he gently added a finger.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"Thank you." Will attempted to mumble against her neck blindly groping for the towel he had hastily snagged on their way down the hall.

"Yeah?" Emma questioned tentatively grabbing the fabric and wiping at her hand. "Really?"

"Yes, really, always really." He assured with a kiss to her cheek, stretching out contentedly beside her, draping one arm across her stomach, kissing her again when she didn't flinch at the action.

"I love you." Emma's words pulled him from his dazed half-slumber.

"I love you too." He yawned snuggling closer. "Now go to sleep, please."

Emma giggled playfully pushing at his shoulder before she rotated in his arms pressing her body against his as he closed his eyes wondering if he could somehow find a way to hold back the sun, not wanting the night to end.

The passion had begun creeping back into their relationship in the form of lingering touches and heated make-out sessions ever since Emma had started taking medication again. In a way he didn't want to admit that a pill could affect that aspect of their time together but the evidence, especially the way they were lying tangled together now, all concluded that it did.

"We missed Glee you know." Emma whispered into his ear.

"I think I'm okay with that." Will opened his eyes smirking suggestively at her realizing that he wasn't going to be getting any sleep.

"I'm glad I taped it now." Emma grinned pulling on his shirt and the pants that had been hastily left on the floor.

"Of course you did." Will groaned into his pillow reluctantly searching for his pants in the darkness protesting when Emma impatiently tugged at his arm trying to drag him out of bed.

"It's the season finale Will!" She declared as though that were reason enough for him to leave the comfy spot he had created.

"Fine." Will got up, following her into the living room, flopping unceremoniously onto the couch wondering if he could get away with sleeping through the show choir raiding New York.

He watched as Emma excitedly pressed play, sighing as he moved so that she could sit beside him giving up his idea of nodding off again when she squealed excitedly at the Wicked billboard in the opening credits.

He spent more time watching her than the TV show, almost disgusted at the absurdity of them not having their songs written when they were already in New York for the competition. That was one aspect of the show that always bothered him. He understood why the writers did it, it meant that the audience wasn't subjected to the same songs every week but a real show choir would have been working on perfecting a set routine for the entire show choir season, not days before the competition, especially if that competition was Nationals.

"So, do you think he will really leave them for Broadway?" Will took advantage of the last few seconds of a commercial break to wrap his arms around Emma who had barely stopped bouncing around with excitement.

"I hope not." She muttered darkly snuggling up to him. "I do think it's amusing that Matthew Morrison gets to perform his own song though." Emma motioned back to the TV where sure enough, the show choir instructor was belting out one of Emma's favorite songs from his album on an empty Broadway stage.

Will didn't say anything, for the first time that night completely captivated by the show, envious of the fictional character's chance to sing on a real Broadway stage even if there was no audience.

His own dreams of starring in musicals he had given up long ago but occasionally he still thought about them and more than once he had pretended that he was performing to a sold-out auditorium when he had really been singing to Emma in the living room or to the kids during rehearsal. It was one of those things he had come to accept in life.

"I think you sing better than him." Emma said as the music came to a stop. "You would do that wouldn't you, sing on an empty Broadway stage?" She asked turning to look at him.

"Who wouldn't?" Will exclaimed feeling slightly pained that she had asked.

"What would you sing?" Emma asked intertwining her fingers with his.

"I don't know." He answered honestly. "What about you?"

"Mama Who Bore Me" She responded without a moment's hesitation leading Will to believe it wasn't the first time she had considered the question. "That would be my dream role, playing Wendla. I just identify so much with her."

"With all due respect," Will leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "I don't think you're that naïve, but you would make an excellent Wendla although I think I would have to try out for Melchior because I don't think I would be able to handle someone touching you like that even if it was just on stage." He admitted remembering the scene he had uncomfortably sat through in New York.

"Really?" Emma questioned obviously surprised at his protectiveness. "That's oddly sweet."

"We're too old for the roles." He laughed slightly embarrassed at how possessive he got at the idea of someone touching her. "They would never believe we were just innocent teenagers fumbling with feelings they don't understand."

"Speaking of teenagers, did you ever ask the kids about singing at our wedding?" Emma questioned bringing the conversation around to what had been their center focus for the past couple weeks.

"They would have skewered me if I didn't ask. They already have songs picked out...before I asked." He rolled his eyes thinking of how Kurt had wanted to take over coordinating the entire ceremony.

Mutually they had agreed not to hire a wedding planner deciding that they were capable of planning on their own a decision that he occasionally regretted until he thought about the money they were saving that would go towards their honeymoon in a location they still hadn't reached a conclusion on.

"I'm nervous about meeting your mother." Emma admitted shyly when another commercial break rolled around.

Will closed his eyes wishing she hadn't brought the topic up.

Tomorrow morning they were leaving to visit his mother who, to his astonishment, had insisted she meet the woman her son was to marry. Truthfully he couldn't blame her he just really didn't want Emma to learn everything he had so carefully avoided. She had enough problems on her plate. She didn't need to deal with his as well.

"You never talk about her. I mean, you never talk about her now. You tell me stories about when you were growing up but other than that you never mention her. Why is that?" Emma pulled away from him, scooting to the other end of the couch, staring directly at him waiting for the answer he had always known he wouldn't be able to dodge forever.

Will looked down at his lap images from his childhood, the parts he never shared with anyone flashing into his mind.

Numerous afternoons after school he had spent hours searching the house for bottles of alcohol, rummaging through cabinets, looking under mattresses. Once when had gone down to do laundry he had found a small flask tucked in a dirty clothes hamper. He would pour them down the sink always hoping that maybe this time when she discovered they were gone she wouldn't go buy more.

When his dad had left, unable to handle his mother anymore it had only gotten worse. He could still remember the weight of her keys in his hand as he surveyed the house for a hiding place knowing that if she found them she would come home with a case of beer or drunk.

His mother's history was one of the reasons he was a little leery of getting Emma completely wasted despite how alluring it sounded. There were similarities in their personalities, both of them were easily addicted to things and the last thing he wanted was for Emma to become enraptured with the social liberation alcohol brought. It was that thought that stopped him from actually inviting her to partake when he had the occasional beer. He knew that he was probably being illogical but so much of his childhood had been domineered by his mother's drinking. It was the one thing that he felt would be his undoing, if she became an alcoholic. He really didn't think he could handle putting up with the disease any more than he already had.

His mother had always been good about acting like a good parent. He hadn't ever really felt like he was the parent in the household even though he knew now after listening to Emma's stories that it was what had eventually happened. She always took the time to foster his love of dogs and music and never discouraged him from following his dreams. She had surprisingly even kept the house up. She wasn't one of the alcoholics who lied around all day and did nothing but drank. She had been perfectly capable of functioning in the outside world, holding a job, hanging out with friends. It was behind closed doors that she would fall apart which was one of the reasons Will didn't think it was fair that she had been diagnosed with something that some guy who did nothing but guzzle beers twenty-four hours straight was able to escape.

"She's" Will paused taking a deep breath, the pent up words spilling from his mouth. "She's an alcoholic. She has been since I was a kid. It started affecting her mind. She has trouble remembering things, remembering me, some days, like when I called her about the recipes she is perfectly fine, almost normal but other days she won't even know who I am."

"Korsakoff's." Emma whispered softly as he felt tears forming in his eyes. "God, Will I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me?" Emma crawled over to him taking his hand in hers.

"There was so much going on Emma. I couldn't ever find the right time." He admitted with a sniffle. "I wish I could say that she would love you but I honestly don't know how she will react. If it's a good day she will love you. If it's a bad day she will probably think you are a stranger no matter how many times I introduce you. She's gotten worse with time. I didn't want to burden you with that."Will hung his head, trying to hide his tears.

"You mean the way I burdened you with my eating disorder?" Emma scoffed dropping his hand. "I can't believe some of the stuff I put you through. Will, this is my chance to help you, to help you through something the way you helped me."

"You didn't burden me with anything." Will assured her pulling her against him, burying his face in her hair, inhaling the strawberry shampoo that had become such a comfort. "We don't have to do this." He almost pleaded with her to back out of his mother's request.

"How long has it been since you have seen her?" Emma asked cautiously as though she knew he wasn't going to suddenly start talking about the movie they had caught together last week.

"Over a year. I call her, it's just hard. I never know what to expect. It's easier to avoid it." He admitted realizing how similar what he was doing sounded to what Emma had done with her eating disorder and Bipolar in the past.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma rolled over, folding one arm under her pillow, staring at Will's outline in the dark unable to sleep in light of everything he had just revealed to her not an hour ago.

She had always assumed his childhood had been perfect, full of the care-free days she had never really gotten to experience in hers. In the back of her mind she had always thought it odd that he hadn't ever introduced her to his mother considering they lived in the same state even going as far as to kindly deflect her offers to talk to her on the phone which she had always put down to the possibility of his mother regaling her with embarrassing stories from his youth. She had never once considered that his mother might not have enough memory left to remember those stories.

Earlier today when Will had been helping her to teach Moritz how to crawl she had thought she had discovered the source of his unyielding patience in the way he trained dogs. Now she was realizing that much of it probably stemmed from his childhood and dealing with his mother's alcoholism. He had talked at length about how he had always held out for the day when she might be able to stop on her own. It didn't seem fair that he grew up to love someone with a mental disorder when it was a mental illness that had lurked in the foreground of his childhood, something she had made the mistake of mentioning out loud. She had never seen Will so resolute, so adamant that he loved her for who she was. He had ordered her to promise that she would never think that way again, his voice so stern, and his eyes so serious that she had done so almost immediately despite knowing the thought wouldn't leave for a while.

Emma could remember more about Korsakoff's than she had thought she would leaving her back in the position she often felt in regarding her medication. In a way it was reassuring to know, or at least have a rough idea of what kind of symptoms to expect when she did meet his mother. It was disheartening and overwhelming in the sense that she knew there was no cure and that eventually they would be discussing nursing homes. That it was only a matter of time before his mother was unable to properly care for herself.

It worried her that he only checked up on her through phone calls. It meant that he was just as clueless as she was about the severity of what they could walk into tomorrow. Emma knew first- hand how easy it was to sound perfectly fine over the phone but in reality be anything but. What made that worse is that his mother was probably completely unaware of what was going on. She at least recognized her own symptoms. She hadn't told Will any of that preferring to keep the knowledge to herself just in case it wasn't needed.

It also worried her that Will, in a decidedly uncharacteristic move for him, had not researched Korsakoff's admitting that at the time his mother had been diagnosed he was marrying Terri who wasn't very tolerant of his mother's illness. What had started as a way to avoid conflict with Terri had become a way of life and he had never bothered to look up the symptoms something he had openly admitted to regretting but had never gotten around to remedying. Emma could empathize with that. Her entire life seemed to consist of avoiding things she wished weren't in her life.

Their roles had reversed, with her holding him while he cried as she had carefully explained at his request that Korsakoff's was categorized as a Substance Abuse disorder commonly seen in long-term alcoholics over the age of fifty although it had been documented in much younger people who only binge-drank and that quite literally the person's neurons began starving to death even if the person did eat. The body, if given the choice would always choose to metabolize alcohol instead of the food because it was easier meaning that none of the nutrients from anything they ate ever made it to the brain.

The disease was common in long-term alcoholics that would go weeks subsisting on alcoholic beverages alone something he had admitted to seeing his mother do. After a while the person would develop a thiamine or Vitamin B deficiency which the brain requires to metabolize glucose. If there was no thiamine then there was no way for the brain to get the fuel it needed which over time would lead to shrinkage and eventual loss of neurons throughout the brain but most noticeably in the dorsomedial thalamus, one of the major sources of input for the prefrontal cortex. The symptoms of Korsakoff's, for that reason, were similar to those experienced by other individuals who had suffered prefrontal cortex damage including apathy, confusion and memory loss.

Will had acted as though she was describing his mother perfectly when she had gone on to say that patients with Korsakoff's often had trouble reasoning with her memories meaning she couldn't accurately pinpoint when something occurred. One distinctive symptom was confabulation in which they would attempt to fill in these memory gaps often when they are being asked something they feel they should know. Will had nodded his head in surprised understanding saying that she had woven so many stories about him that he had eventually given up trying to set her straight. Usually what they were saying was true in the past but not for whatever they were being asked about and the confabulations were usually more pleasant then the real answer meaning she was going to have to rely on Will to know what was true and what was not when she finally talked with his mother.

She wasn't upset that Will hadn't told her about his mother's condition. If she were honest with herself and put herself in his shoes she probably wouldn't have said anything either.

Gently Emma wrapped her arm around his waist burying her face in his back for the first time in her life grateful that she was stabilized on a medication because for the first time she felt like he really needed her. They had no idea what they would find tomorrow and considering the length of time her mother had been living with Korsakoff's Emma was hedging a bet that it wasn't going to be pretty. Will was still in a sort of denial, drawing on the phone conversations as proof that his mom was functioning well even though she could tell that every time he said the words his conviction waned.

"You'll be okay." She whispered drawing on the words she had so long ago heard him utter when he had thought she was asleep. "We'll be okay."

* * *

A/N: You guys are going to be able to recite the DSM by the time this story is finished. Will's mother was an idea I have had since she appeared on the show as an alcoholic. Please let me know what you think. Again, thank you for your amazing reviewers, they are always so heart-felt. It never ceases to amaze me how much some of you are wrapped up in this story.


	46. Chapter 45

A/N: A little bit of everything once again.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Five**

**Emma's POV**

"Will," Emma reluctantly shattered the silence reaching over to grab her fiance's hand in her own. "It's not going to get any easier sitting in the car."

Will sighed running his thumb across the back of her hand both defeated and stubborn. "I know."

Slowly they got out of the car, her hand finding his again as they made their way up the driveway.

"Those would have never been there before." Will said sadly kicking at a weed growing in between the cracks of the cement.

Emma said nothing as she continued to walk beside him, matching her steps with his as they stepped onto the porch jumping slightly when he pounded on the door five times instead of ringing the doorbell.

"Doesn't work." He explained weakly his eyes darting back and forth as though he were looking for a place to run, as though he wanted to be anywhere else but where he was, like he was her sitting in front of a plate of food at the height of the eating disorder.

The door creaked heavily as it inched open and a small elderly woman with thinning, white, curly hair regarded them first with a scowl then a triumphant smile.

"William!" She proclaimed loudly, her grin wide as she wrapped her frail arms around her son.

"Hi mom." Will choked out while Emma took in the disheveled appearance she knew without a doubt wasn't how Will remembered his mother.

A large flannel shirt, obviously made for a man, hung loosely from her frame, faded blue jeans that appeared two sizes too big sat low on her hips, half-unzipped. The slippers she wore were made of plush lambskin or at least had been at one time, now worn down and riddled with holes, failing under the test of time, like the mind that had allowed her to put them on this morning Emma couldn't help thinking.

The pain in Will's eyes when he turned to introduce her was haunting and Emma would have given anything to take it away as she stood helplessly on the woman's porch, her hands resting nervously at her sides, afraid to touch her, afraid of the filth, disgusted with herself for caring because it wasn't her fault. One person's disorder at war with another's.

"Mom, this is my fiancé, Emma." He smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes while his mother ignored him talking excitedly about a squirrel that she fed corn to every morning stopping long enough to glance in her direction before excitedly telling Will that she couldn't wait for him to see it.

"Sorry." He whispered as his mother turned to go inside. "It's Anne."

"It's okay." Emma assured with her best grin knowing that she had witnessed her first symptomatic behavior of the day following Will inside pausing just inside the door while she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Shapes began to take form and it wasn't long before Emma realized with a sinking feeling that she was standing in the middle of what had probably been the kitchen Will had run around in as a little boy and that it had probably been nothing like what it was now.

The countertops were virtually non-existent, buried under mounds of pots and pans, half-eaten bowls of cereal and numerous empty cans of vegetables. In the far corner next to a squirrel cookie jar was a coffee pot with coffee Emma swore she could see the film on. Her hands itched to clean something, anything to make the mess she was standing in more bearable. Forcefully she bit her lip and held her ground.

One glance at the man to her side squelched her rising anxiety. His shoulders were slumped, his lips parted slightly as though he had been intending to speak, his eyes wide with shock and a form of disbelief Emma had to physically look away from. She felt like crying when she watched all evidence of his shock vanish, swept away by a cheerful smile that even she could tell was a struggle to keep up.

"So, mom," Will spoke in a casual tone, the forced enthusiasm hollow in the midsts of the heartache she was surveying. "Have you eaten anything? We can go pick something up from downtown and bring it back."

Emma averted her eyes from the woman in question discreetly kicking an empty beer can under the table where Will hopefully wouldn't see it. She didn't want him to be any more uncomfortable than he probably already was. Carefully Emma sat down, swallowing hard against the knowledge that she had no idea what had occupied the simple chair before her watching silently as Anne stared right through Will her eyes landing on a pizza box almost covered in dirt from a potted plant that had tipped over.

"Oh, I had pizza." Anne answered taking a seat across from Will in an old rocker and Emma could tell that Will didn't believe her.

Confabulations were often about innocuous things that were never very integral to life and usually were real memories simply displaced in time or fabricated ones based on their environment usually more pleasant than the real answer. Anne was completely unaware of what she was doing as she smiled weakly at her son rocking easily back and forth.

"Well, how about we go pick something up anyways and you can eat it whenever you want." Emma jumped in, saving Will from the situation she could tell from his posture was becoming too much.

Relief washed over his face as he forced a smile in the direction of his mother telling her they would be right back forcing his way through her recount of her new neighbors and how she was convinced that they were stealing clothes from her clothes line. Emma didn't stay inside long enough to hear his response when Anne ordered him to talk with them because she now only had five pairs of underwear insisting that yesterday when she dried them, that there had been six.

"I need to walk." Will offered no explanation as he barreled out the front door starting down a deserted street meandering aimlessly right down the middle not waiting for her to catch up.

Jogging up beside him Emma slowed to a troubled stroll, pushing past her instinct to leave him alone in favor of trying to comfort him. Normally when people were upset she wanted nothing to do with them always somehow convinced that they were upset because of something she did. More than anything she wanted to walk silently behind him, to stay away from the heaps of frustration that almost seemed to be radiating off of him but it didn't seem fair, not when he had helped her through so much.

"I didn't know she was this bad." Will forced out, his elongated strides only lengthening as he crossed a small wooden bridge. "She can't stay here." He spoke more to himself than her never turning around.

"Don't worry about it right now. Concentrate on being here with her. You're making her so happy." Emma carefully placed her hand on his shoulder squeezing softly noticing the tension in his muscles.

"She doesn't even know what's going on Emma!" Will halted, whirling around to face her, shaking off her hand. "She has no idea…I can't believe I let it get this bad." His voice dropped to a whisper as he took a shuddering breath.

"This isn't you Will. This is the disease. It's called anosognosia, not knowing how bad off you are." Emma rattled the term off drawing parallels between his mother and herself, how she had been blissfully in denial about how bad her eating disorder was and how his mother was just blissfully unaware.

They continued moving in silent dissonance making their way into the small down town, every word she possessed dying on her lips before she could give it a voice.

"I have to get her out of here." Will ignored her, wrenching the door open to a local bar, stepping in before she could figure out how to tell him that she agreed.

* * *

The monstrosity of a cheeseburger sitting in front of her seemed to be like a blast from the past and Emma hated the anxiety she felt towards it. The anxiety she thought she had left far behind. She hadn't been this nervous about a cheeseburger since the county fair with Will in Virginia where that younger couple had helped her out.

It wasn't fair that so many things that demanded attention could be going on around her and the only thing she could concentrate was the food staring back at her. Will was trying to set his mother straight on a childhood memory of his to no avail and although she longed to join in, to deflect his mother's frustratingly sparse inquiries towards herself so he could get some peace she couldn't tear her eyes away from the mound of carbohydrate-covered grease inches from her hand.

Will was somehow noticing her discomfort despite his negotiations with his mother, his hand finding her knee as it had done so many times in the past. Cautiously she took a bite, feeling as though the whole world stopped moving to fixate on her as the food sat in her mouth. She wanted to spit it out, claim that she had taken too big of a bite or suddenly fake being sick, thoughts that bothered her. She didn't understand why they were manifesting now when she was supposed to be supporting Will.

To her dismay Anne smiled in her direction motioning to the cheeseburger she had just set back down. "Good to see you eat sweetheart. You need some meat on those bones, fatten you up a little! Right Will?" Ann turned to her son who sat frozen, his mouth hanging open, his eyes resting apologetically on her, his own cheeseburger trapped in mid-air.

"Mom, um…I think we went fishing the summer before dad left. Remember, it was Free Fish Day?" Will's words tumbled from his mouth, his desperate attempt to change the subject for her sake, she could tell.

Anne frowned and for the first time the older woman's disorder was not on her side, allowing her to remember the previous subject Will was attempting to delicately side-step.

"Will, look at her! She is too skinny! Honestly she needs to gain some weight." Anne nudged Emma in the shoulder and the only thing Emma could think about was the fear of the older woman feeling how fat she was. "Couple o' these cheeseburgers should do the trick. Whole pound a beef right here!" Anne held up her cheeseburger and Emma felt angry towards the woman's ignorance.

She cringed, jumping up from the table offering a mumbled apology as tears began to roll down her cheeks, the bite of cheeseburger in her stomach feeling like lead as she practically ran down a back hallway almost tripping over a box, having no idea where she was going. Hastily she yanked open a door, relieved to find a cluttered bedroom, disgusted with herself for eating, disgusted with herself for letting the commentary of a sick woman get to her, disgusted with herself for feeling fat.

As his mother's words replayed again in her head Emma let herself go, crying freely into her hands, not hearing the door creak open or noticing as Will shoved a couple boxes and a stool with a hand-knitted cover out of the way to sit down next to her.

"Emma, she doesn't know what she's saying." He assured her, placing a hand on her cheek. "You can't take it seriously."

"She knew exactly what she was saying Will! I could see it in her eyes. She didn't mean to hurt me, that part she can't help but she wasn't delusional. Is that how people view me?" She cried collapsing against him, fisting his shirt into her palms. "Do they see me as someone who needs to get fat, because I already feel fat."

"You're not." Will spoke sternly his voice reverberating through his chest as his arms came up to hold her close.

"I was afraid of the cheeseburger." Emma admitted shyly pulling away, forcing herself to look at him.

"I know you were." He responded easily.

"Does that mean I'm in danger of relapsing?" Emma asked, honestly not sure what to do with the feelings she had just experienced.

"No." Will insisted firmly. "It means it won't go away overnight, the thoughts I mean, the mindset. It means it's just trying to creep back into your life when you are stressed. You just have to watch out for that, that's all." Emma grinned slightly as he kissed her on the nose, rubbing her shoulders up and down. "We have to watch out for that." He finished.

"Come here." Will tugged at her arm, pulling her towards the bed that was surprisingly cleared off and setting her down on it.

Emma watched as he moved so he was standing between her legs, bending over at the waist to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"What are you doing?" Emma giggled, intoxicated by his scent, wanting to pull him on to the bed with her.

"Kissing a beautiful woman on my childhood bed." Will smirked. "This is my room. What's left of it."He pulled away momentarily, scanning the room that had become a storage closet before leaning in for another kiss, Emma closing her eyes when his tongue briefly darted into her mouth before he took a step away. "We should head back." He whispered, his voice husky.

Reluctantly Emma stood leaning her shoulder against Will's chest, allowing him to just hold her. "What am I going to say?"

"Don't say anything. She probably won't even remember." He responded sadly, honestly.

* * *

The rest of the meal continued without any further complications. Emma poked her way through the cheeseburger, only managing half despite the gentle pressure of Will's hand on her knee while he alternated between accepting his mother's memory gaps and trying unsuccessfully to fill them in.

It was clear to Emma that the older woman was no longer capable of adequately caring for herself and as she watched the pained interaction between a grown man and his mother who was rapidly losing her grip on reality she wondered which way was worse. Losing a mother the way she had or losing one the way Will was.

She could tell it was affecting him. The tell-tale way his jaw clenched every now and then showed that his bright smile and enthusiastic remarks were hollow and that tears threatened every one.

Again they had ended up discussing her neighbors and how Anne thought they were stealing her laundry from the line. Will refused to go talk to them and honestly Emma couldn't blame him. It wasn't like he could march over there and accuse a woman he didn't know of stealing his mother's underwear. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't convince her that the idea was absurd. Emma didn't try to get involved. She had nothing to say and every time she went to speak she became leery of drawing attention to herself, afraid that his mother wouldn't point out the half of her meal she hadn't eaten yet and make more comments.

By the time they left she could see the tension in Will, the stiff way he stood and the drawn expression on his face. He wanted out of the situation just as much as she did. She felt helpless, completely incapable of stopping the thing that was slowly destroying his mother. She wondered to herself if this wasn't the way Will had felt at the hospital with her, her thoughts on the topic not stopping so finally she broke the uneasy silence that had encompassed the car as they headed back to the apartment.

"Will, what were you thinking when you watched my mother die." Her words seemed jarring, far too serious given everything they had just witnessed and momentarily she regretted her question. She watched Will's eyes close briefly as though he wished she hadn't asked.

"I felt completely helpless. I wanted so badly to protect you, to shield you from what was happening but I knew I couldn't. I was thinking about how I was never going to get to know her," Will paused almost looking sheepish, "about what her death would mean for you and the eating disorder. I hate myself for that thought. It was so selfish." He admitted almost hatefully.

Emma felt relief flood through her at his words. For months she had thought she was the only one who had regrets about the moment her mother died. She still hadn't forgiven herself for reciting psychology facts instead of saying how much she loved her. Will, apparently, incorrectly, was doing the same thing. He had every right to think that way and if Emma were honest with herself he had been right to worry. Her mother's death had made things worse. She just hadn't really noticed it until now.

"That wasn't selfish. You were worried…and right." Emma practically whispered staring down at her lap. "It did get worse. Everything got worse."

"It's getting better." Will reached over, squeezing her hand. "There's a light." He trailed off a ridiculous smile appearing on his face. "Over at the Frankenstein place." He sang lightly bringing her hand up to kiss the back.

"We're going to be fine." He assured her, letting her hand rest covered with his on his thigh as they turned into the complex.

* * *

Emma studied Will intently from her position curled up at the corner of the couch. He was sitting at the table, glasses slowly sliding down his nose as he rested his forehead in his palm scribbling notes about possible choreography for next years' songs. It was obvious from the way his writing would gradually taper off that he wasn't concentrating on what he was doing. Honestly Emma didn't know why he was already starting to choose songs, usually he was a bit more last minute about it but as she watched him sigh heavily she realized it was really just more of a distraction.

Occasionally when she was stressed Will would spontaneously give her a massage, letting his hands work at her troubles until she couldn't really remember anything but how they felt against her skin. It had taken her a while to become comfortable with the touching especially when she had been more worried about appearing disgusting to him but he had been patient, whispering that she was beautiful as he would remove her shirt, rub her back, alternating between kisses and caresses. Recently the massages had become more intimate usually ending up with them making out in whatever room it had started in, her getting lost in the desire she didn't know could be so strong as his mouth moved against hers. Most of the time she refrained from doing the same for Will, afraid of rejection but tonight as she watched him through her heartache she wanted to comfort him the way he did her and she couldn't ignore the tingling in her body much longer, the need to be near him that had been increasing exponentially the last few weeks.

Slowly she padded across the room her toes curling into the carpet as though it was the one part of her body telling her not to do this as she came up behind him, placing one hand on his shoulder kneading gently at the knot she found there.

Will sighed into her touch, leaning back, sinking down in the chair, throwing his head back to greet her with a small smile, slowly rotating his neck so that he was staring at the table his glasses finally sliding completely off his nose. "Feels good." He mumbled.

Emma felt emboldened by his declaration, her body almost on fire , so hungry for his touch. In a way she felt like she was taking advantage of him, starting with a massage in the hopes it would lead to something more, something she still wasn't sure about, something she wanted and feared all at once.

"Do you want to lie down?" She questioned stepping away with restrained excitement when he nodded, hiding her surprise when he shuffled to the living room instead of the bedroom, sprawling out on his stomach across the floor.

All of her senses seemed heightened as she knelt down beside him, letting her hands find his shoulders once again resisting the urge to let them trail underneath his shirt, not wanting to seem as desperate as she really felt.

Will moaned softly and Emma closed her eyes never stopping the motions with her hands as she moved to straddle his waist biting her lip to keep her treacherous voice from giving away how aroused she was shifting subtly for no other reason than friction, well aware of the heat pooling between her legs.

Desperately she tried to ignore what her body craved finally giving in when he shifted beneath her when she found a particularly bad knot, momentarily increasing the pressure where she wanted it most. Slowly she knelt down, her heart pounding in her ears as she screamed at herself, wondering what she was doing, pressing her chest against his back, her hands splayed flat across his back resisting the powerful urge to rock her hips against him as she began to plant small kisses along the back of his neck.

Many nights lying next to him in bed she had wanted to reach out, to touch him, caress his skin, feel him against her, let her hands wander down his body until the way he made her feel caused her anxiety to take the back way out but every evening she hesitated, brave only in her fantasies, and waited for him to take the lead. For the first time in longer than she could remember she was making the first move and for the first time ever she had absolutely no intention of stopping. She wanted him.

"Em, sweetie." Will carefully rolled over beneath her, his eyes tired, his expression apologetic as his hands found her wrists, removing her hands from his chest. "Not tonight okay? It's just…everything with mom. I'm not sure I feel like it."

Emma felt her world crumble to her feet as emotions crashed into her. Embarrassment at her forwardness coloring her actions, shame for even thinking he would want to be with her after everything that had happened knocking harshly at her arousal. She smiled as best she could, crawling off of him, ashamed that she was so turned on, not knowing what to do with the feeling that was quickly morphing into a desire to flee.

She felt confused, betrayed by her body and her inhibitions. When he had let her straddle him, when he had moaned she had thought it was because he wanted her too. Now the only desire she had was a desire to get away from him, away from the situation she had created, the one that left her so exposed and vulnerable.

"It's okay. I…um I have to go to the bathroom anyways." The words were shaky even to her own ears as she quickly stood up and forced herself to walk to the bathroom feeling his eyes burning into her ignoring his call for her to wait up.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will stayed where he was, letting his forehead crash into his palm, disgusted with himself for pushing her away. It was rare that she took the initiative anymore and Dan had once told him he should play along even if he didn't feel like it to hopefully boost her confidence. He felt horrible and could only imagine her crying on the floor of the bathroom, curled up, hiding from the feelings he had rejected.

He had known she was aroused as soon as she had straddled him during the massage, able to feel the heat from her body. In truth, she had been starting to get to him but he had called it off because he didn't feel he would be able to concentrate fully on her with everything looming over him in his life right now and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel that he was distracted when they were together.

Moritz looked over at Will from his spot on the kitchen floor and Will allowed himself to imagine the dog chastising him with his large brown eyes.

"Yeah, okay. I get it. I screwed up." Will sighed realizing that he needed to do something before she withdrew completely.

As quietly as he could Will walked over to the iPod Emma had left sitting on the end stand next to the couch and plugged it into the surround sound speakers he had brought from his apartment. She used them more than he did, constantly playing soundtracks to musicals.

Sometimes Will missed being able to do that. Being so immersed in the technicalities of music occasionally robbed him of his ability to just sit back and enjoy a song. He often turned the radio off anymore annoyed with today's popular music, at their lack of breath support and the fact that if he were to strip away the music he still wouldn't be able to understand them.

For a couple seconds he wondered if his idea was going to work as he searched for the 'repeat' setting on the small device selecting the song he wanted. Quickly he turned up the volume, not blaringly loud but not soft either. He knew Emma loved this song and often sang it speaking endlessly about the poeticism of the lyrics and he had to agree, they were creative. Will held his breath as he effortlessly strolled in the direction of the bathroom with the beat of the instrumental opening hoping she wouldn't push away his advance the way he had done hers.

Carefully he opened the bathroom door, momentarily disheartened to find her curled up on the floor, her back against the tub. Slowly he walked over.

"Where I go, when I go there," Will began softly keeping his voice contemplative as he knelt down beside her ignoring her confused expression as he coaxed her to stand continuing to sing. "No more memories anymore, only men on distant ships, the woman with them, swimming with them to shore."

Before the next verse started Will placed a quick kiss to the side of her neck forcing her to step in front of him singing softly against her ear as they approached the door. "Where I go, when I go there, no more whispering anymore, only hymns upon your lips, a mystic wisdom rising with them to shore."

They made it as far as the hall before the chorus kicked in.

"Touch me," Will accented the consonants sharply, rotating Emma in his arms, taking both of her hands and placing them flat against his chest. "Just like that," he breathed, "and that, oh yeah, now that's heaven, god that's so nice." Will sang allowing his voice to become seductive occasionally playing with the melody as he proceeded to move her hands over his body.

Carefully he searched her eyes, making sure she was okay with what he was doing, encouraged when he found nothing but arousal hidden within them. "Now lower down," Will gripped one of her wrists sliding her hand down his abdomen letting her continue the rest of the way, his breathing hitching as her hand brushed across the front of his pants, "where the figs lie."

When the dialogue portion started Emma broke away pulling him towards the living room, the song enveloping them both, fueling their wandering hands and soft kisses as Emma backed him up to the couch gently pushing at his chest with her hand, climbing into his lap, grinding against him as the music built. Will smiled against her, forgetting everything that was troubling him as she rocked against him in time with the beat.

"Where I go, when I go there, no more shadows anymore, only you there in the kiss." Will broke off capturing her lips with his own, tracing her bottom lip with his tongue, asking for the permission she was freely granting, letting her choose the pace.

They lost track of the song, writhing against each other on the couch, tongues exploring, fingers traveling across the other's body, touching through their clothes until Emma wrapped her arms around his shoulders and scooted closer, rotating her hips causing him to groan deep in his throat and grip tightly at her waist, returning the favor.

Briefly he envisioned taking her shirt off, burying his face in her breasts as she moved against him but something about the almost teenage way they were grinding into each other, their bodies desperate for friction, their minds desperate to forget everything but the person in their arms fit the song, fit the moment.

Neither of them spoke, afraid to break the trance the swirling notes and harmonies had created for them as their movements increased, becoming frenzied, awkward, almost fumbling; desperate, Emma causing him to hiss slightly when she gently nipped at his neck as she stilled against him. The prolonged pressure almost enough to make him come as well.

Her face stayed buried in his neck and her breathing didn't slow as he had expected but instead picked up and soon she was moving against him again whimpering softly. Somewhere where they were in the song clicked and Will tangled one hand into her hair using the other to anchor her to him. "Now that I like, god that's so nice." He sang roughly into her ear surprised he could even manage to hold a pitch as her second orgasm tore through her.

Will stopped his own movements letting his hand fall from her hair, breathing in her scent as he rested his forehead on her shoulder breathing harshly, stopping her hand from reaching his belt.

"I'm fine." He whispered. "This was about you, not me."

Emma nodded collapsing against him before she pulled away with a questioning smile on her face.

"What gave you this idea?" She asked toying with the fabric of his shirt.

"Trust me, a guy can only listen to someone sing about asking someone to touch them so many times before they get ideas." He ducked his head slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry about earlier." He whispered still staring at her lap. "It wasn't you, God it definitely wasn't you." He amended replaying what they had just done in his head.

"We should do this more often." She grinned openly at him, sincerely, wiping away any traces of shame he still had over the way he had treated her earlier.

"A boy can dream, dream, dream." Will sang into her ear unable to go any further when she erupted into a fit of giggles as the song that would never be viewed the same by either of them started over once again this time enticing both of them to sing along.

* * *

A/N: Let me know what you think please. Really, reviews mean everything!


	47. Chapter 46

A/N: This doesn't span a lot of time but I feel it's important.

* * *

**Chapter Forty Six**

**Emma's POV**

Emma kept her eyes trained on the aisle she wanted, moving towards the cereal with strides that would only appear confident to the outsider, purposefully meeting no one's eyes despite the casual greeting from a recently graduated student.

Will was waiting outside, waiting outside because she had been determined to tackle this on her own. He had smiled, kissed her on the forehead and with a smirk ordered her to go get the Life cereal she hadn't eaten sine her childhood.

The topic had come up as they had cuddled in bed last night, tangled up in each other after their activities set to soundtrack. An innocent subject change by Will about foods that as a child she had thought she would never live without. Instantly she had thought of Life, about how the simplicity of the box had always appealed to her even as a little girl, about how she had eaten it nearly every morning for breakfast through high school.

It had been a childhood favorite of her mother's that had trickled its way to her and as the rows of brightly colored boxes invaded her vision Emma noted for the first time her history of being able to eat the same thing every day without growing tired of it, a trait that had obviously not served her well in later years.

Her hand seemed trapped in its own time zone as she watched it creep towards the smiling face of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy, brought to a jarring halt by the distinct sensation that someone was standing next to her.

Turning abruptly to her left her eyes registered those of an elderly gentleman. He wore a red, flannel shirt with dirty bib overalls, the mark of a farmer, his posture stooped as though the meaning behind the word inscribed on the box she had been seconds away from grabbing hadn't been kind to him.

She retracted her hand, backing away step by agonizing step, her eyes widening of their own accord in panic as he continued to stare, saying nothing. Emma had no idea who he was but under his gaze she felt exposed, vulnerable and instantly ashamed of what she had been about to do.

Frantically her eyes roamed the shelves, looking for a way out, finding it in the form of a familiar canister a few items away. Without thinking she reached for it, hoping that by latching onto something safe she could destroy the hold the moment, the unnamed man who was now shuffling off in the other direction, had taken on her.

Her panic only increased as she pushed her way through the store, feeling her cheeks burn as she bypassed families piling groceries into their cart, hoping fervently that no one else had seen her almost purchase something so childish.

The container rested easily between her fingers, the texture reassuring, comforting. Even the way it filled the plastic bag, the way the handles dug slightly at her palm as she mindlessly paid the smiling cashier and hastily made her way back to the car brought her a sense of power and she momentarily told herself she was better than the nameless man who had undone her with a look.

When she got in beside Will, her impulsive purchase clutched to her chest as though it were a child she had no idea what to say.

"Last I checked Life came in a box." Will carefully turned towards her, his hand hovering inches away from the keys already in the steering column.

She could tell by the cautious way he was regarding her that he knew what it was she was holding in her hands. Carefully she lowered it to the ground almost mourning the loss of its weight in her lap, the crinkling of the plastic only magnifying her confusion. He was waiting for a reason she didn't have yet and not for the first time Emma wished she understood herself.

"There was this man. I got nervous. He was just staring…I don't know Will." She said weakly, hating how ridiculous she sounded only slightly less than she hated how ridiculous the situation was.

"It was safe." He offered quietly as he turned the keys and pulled out of the parking lot, speeding up to beat a yellow light, his tone simple and understanding as though what they were talking about wasn't complex causing Emma to realize just how well he knew her.

"It was safe." She agreed, allowing the silence that had been threatening them to fall easily over the car as they continued home, the canister rolling onto its side as he turned a little too sharply into the complex parking lot.

* * *

"What do you want to eat?" Will picked up their conversation where it had left off, where it had veered off and ended with fruitless trip to the store.

Emma studied the canister on the table between them noting the changes that had been made to its appearance. Where it had once been red it was white, like it had changed specifically to suit the changes in her, taking on a different form for the different place she was in her life.

The price had been the same just like the disorder.

"Oatmeal." She answered distantly, not really registering what she had said until he spoke.

"I won't stop you." He paused running his fingers through his hair, his eyes never leaving hers. "I won't stop you but I won't like it either."

Emma nodded burdened by his honesty, wondering if Moritz wasn't somehow aware of what was going on when he effectively blocked her path to the cupboard containing the bowls, his tail wagging lazily while his expectant brown eyes rested on Will, his leash caught gently between his jaws.

Will didn't say anything as he took the leash, enticing the almost full-grown retriever to follow him to the door probably knowing just as much as she did that he had said all he could really say.

It was the overbearing silence that seemed to coat her bones that made her set the oatmeal back down and think about one of the lists she had made at Rivergroves, a list about other things to do when she wanted to do something she shouldn't. Number one had been a bubble bath, an activity she usually never took the time to enjoy, often showering instead of bathing for both reasons related to cleanliness and saving time. When she had made it number one she had been listening to Sophia talk about how relaxing they were and in that moment she had wanted that experience.

Tonight she let herself get lost in the steady stream of the water filling the tub watching in fascination as the strawberry-scented bubbles that had been a gift from her mother gathered on the surface. With no real method she removed her clothes placing them neatly on the counter behind her, avoiding making eye contact with the mirror just above the sink. Slowly she submersed one foot trying to mimic the romanticized baths she saw depicted in Hollywood, wincing slightly at the temperature of the water and she marked her fantasy as childish and just crawled in letting the water coat her skin.

The bubbles shifted as the water displaced to accomadate her body, affording her a perfect view of her straightened legs, the vivid scars adorning her thigh that she sometimes thought would never fade. With one finger she poked at the top half of her leg glancing away sharply in disgust when she saw it jiggle seemingly in slow motion beneath the water.

Even before her time at Rivergroves, when she had first attempted to recover she had felt huge. Now that she was at a normal weight she felt like a cargo ship and frequently she worried the feeling would be permanent. That she would never be at peace with her body. It seemed cruel and harsh that the same disorder that told her she was fat at her current weight had told her the same at ninety-two pounds.

Now when she thought about that number it sounded romantic, not yet adopting the meaning it was supposed to imply. The one that said it was unhealthy and that she had been very sick. To her disordered mind it sounded like a trip to Disney World, to get that number back. To her recovered mind it sounded like too much hard work. It didn't sound threatening like she thought maybe it should have, just exhausting to achieve and that was what kept her from trying.

Every morning she got dressed and no matter what she wore she waited for her clothes to not fit and everyday she sucked in her stomach even around Will bothered that she had to do so to begin with, longing for the time when she hadn't given it a second thought, constantly holding her ground against the mindset that forever nipped at different levels of her conscience.

Tonight, fueled by the unknowing, unreadable stare of a stranger that mindset took center stage and she wanted to cry when she thought about all she couldn't see, all that was hidden beneath the innocent bubbles.

"Hey there," Will stepped lightly through the door she hadn't bothered to close all of the way, part of her selfishly wanting him with her. His expression was soft as he crossed the floor staking out a spot on the floor next to the tub. "Sorry I didn't knock. I was worried." He admitted seriously only adding to her sea of conflicting thoughts.

She fidgeted, noticing that her breasts were visible above the water and carefully she slid down in the tub until the bubbles covered them the way they did the rest of her.

"Don't do that." Will whispered, cupping her cheek gently with one hand, his expression pained. "Don't hide."

Emma longed to tell him how she was feeling, that she felt like the tub shouldn't be able to hold her. She wanted to tell him about the man, about how she had thought he was looking right through her, straight into her shame over buying a simple box of cereal.

"How do you think of me?" Emma blurted out not wanting to have the other conversation which felt so old and worn, choosing instead the question that had been clamoring for her attention since last night.

"What do you mean?" Will asked, dropping his hand from her cheek as she sat up and tucked her knees up to her chest, covering herself once again.

"Do you think of me how I am now or how I was then?" Emma motioned for the towel hanging on the rack to his left suddenly wanting nothing more to do with the idea of relaxing during a bath.

"You mean sexually?" He clarified easily and Emma hated how effortlessly the words came out of his mouth.

"Yes." She whispered, oddly grateful when he averted his eyes as she stood, wrapping the towel around her body, suds and all.

"Now, I think of you like you are now." He stood up too, taking her hand in his, sweetly helping her out of the tub, grabbing another towel for her hair.

Emma barely ran the fabric through her hair, pulling Will instead through the room, into the hall and towards the bedroom.

"Lay down with me." She practically pleaded suddenly wanting to feel him next to her.

He obeyed, moving the covers back so she could crawl underneath, already growing chilled from the combined effects of the air-conditioning on her damp skin and soaked hair. Without saying anything he removed his shirt and pants, crawling in behind her, conforming his body to hers. Emma allowed herself to relax into the warmth of the towel that surrounded her, the sensation of his strong body wrapped around hers trying to figure out how to broach all the things she wanted to know.

"What were you thinking last night?" Emma restrained herself from turning in his arms. "When I was giving you that massage I thought you wanted…" She trailed off, her words lost in her misguided sense of propriety.

"I was thinking that I shouldn't have pushed you away and I know what you were thinking." He admitted causing Emma's cheeks to flush, flinching as his hand snaked its way under the loosening towel to rest on her side suddenly just as vulnerable as she had been in the store.

"I felt bad," He continued without the prompt she had been working on preparing, "but as soon as you pushed me onto the couch all I could think about was you, making you feel good." He paused, all of her concentration trapped by the index finger tracing indeterminant shapes along her torso, "making you come."

Emma tensed again caught between surprise at the honesty of his words and arousal at the way he had just spoken.

"I wanted to do more than touch." She whispered her desire afraid that speaking it out loud would somehow make it too real.

Will's hand continued its unhurried path over her skin, grazing the side of her breast, straying further to the side until he was gently cupping her. "I know, me too." He whispered as though he was frigthened of the same emotion she was, his breathing slowly increasing. "Do you want me to stop?"

Emma felt torn at his words. She both wanted him to continue what he was doing so she could get lost in the sensations she so desperately wanted to bask in and stop so she would stop feeling so self-conscious about her naked body.

"No," she gasped when his thumb brushed across her nipple increasing the slight warmth that had started to gather between her legs.

"Relax, sweetheart." He spoke softly, her lengthened pet name somehow making it easier to listen as he told her not to be nervous seconds before he disappeared under the covers, his mouth taking over where his hand had left off.

Emma inhaled sharply as his tongue swirled around first one nipple and then the other, making no move to push the blankets aside, not ready to see the body she had seen in the tub. She felt Will's breath moving up her chest and soon his mouth was resting inches beneath her ear. "Tell me what you want."

"You." She responded breathlessly knowing deep down that the longing she felt could never be satisfied by his hands or mouth.

Will was silent for a moment, immobile and for a painstaking moment Emma feared she had said too much until he whispered okay and kissed her once on the lips.

"I'm not trying to ruin the moment here but I want you to know what's going on." His voice was rough, enticing. "I'm going to make you come first because I know you probably won't be able to when I'm inside you." Emma blushed at his words, touched by his consideration, impressed that he was thinking about her enough to explain what he was going to do.

Many people wrongly assumed that a woman could achieve orgasm by sexual penetration alone, something that physiologically wasn't true most of the time. Only the first third of the vagina contained nerve endings, after that there was nothing, meaning all the woman felt was pressure. There were spots that would heighten the pleasure but actually achieving orgasm without some form of stimulation was rare.

"What do you want?" He asked again and this time the question held so much more behind it.

"Mouth." She forced out, pushing gently at his shoulders to reassure him.

Soon he was under the covers again, kissing and licking his way between her breasts, down her torso, reassuring her that she was beautiful when she tensed as he lingered at her stomach before inching lower. His breath was hot against her, his mouth warm and wet when he finally closed the remaining distance between her body and him.

Her hips bucked slightly and she clenched at the sheet beneath her. "More, Will." She gasped taken aback by her own brazen request.

He chuckled lowly against her, increasing the pressure he was using with his tongue as he slipped one finger inside, slowly moving in and out before he added another, spreading them both as much as he could . Emma blushed when she realized what he was doing.

She lost track of how long he stayed that way before he pulled away.

"One more okay?" His voice was muffled, his breath teasing her sensitive skin and Emma felt a wave of gratitude for his asking. "Please," she half-moaned, the sound growing in intensity when a third finger joined the rest, the sensation odd yet not unpleasant. She couldn't help the fear that tickled at her mind at the thought of him being inside her instead of his fingers.

Before she could make sense of those thoughts his mouth was on her again and her hands clutched wildly at the now crumpled sheet, her thighs opening to grant him better access, her last coherent thought before the wave of pleasure that had been building crested one of apprehension about what was to come.

Suddenly he was beside her, no longer beneath the covers, the sweat evident on his brow as his hand lovingly caressed her stomach, a motion Emma put a stop to instantly, the war over what she wanted and didn't want gaining an ally in her body image.

"You're not ready for this." Will said easily, unassumingly, as though he had known and it wasn't difficult to except. "Relax, I'll be back okay?" And with that he was gone, leaving Emma alone with the knowledge that she really didn't know her body, alone with the knowledge that he was probably taking care of himself in the bathroom.

Taking care of himself because of her anxiety over giving him something she should have no problems giving.

She didn't move while she waited for him to return forcing out a thank you when he walked back in with a wash cloth, his expression slightly worried yet relaxed.

"Emma," he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers back slightly, the cool air a relief to her flushed skin. "Is it because of him? Is that why you're scared?"

It took a moment for who Will was talking about to click in her mind and when it did the way he had averted his eyes after asking made sense and she felt her heart break that she had ever given him reason to think what he was.

"No," She answered honestly. "I feel safe with you." Carefully she took the wash cloth, wiping away the evidence of what they had done as quickly as she could not because she was embarrassed but because he was watching. "What made you realize I wasn't ready?"

"Your eyes." He responded with a hurt look. "I could see the fear. I don't want you to be afraid." Slowly he turned his gaze downward, his hand once again finding her stomach.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"Is this why?" He asked, not moving his hand despite the muscles that tensed beneath it, thinking back to Sue's words so long ago about how vulnerable Emma would be the first time they made love.

"Part of it." Emma spoke quietly. "I'm still embarrassed about how I look."

Will thought briefly about pressing for the rest of her reason but decided to work with what he had. "You asked me how I think of you." He let his hand trail to her side, wander over to her thigh, feeling the raised sections of healing skin under his palm. "I picture you just like this, even the scars because they are a part of you and I think you are beautiful."

He stayed quiet, letting his words and their implications sink in while her hand found his and she interlocked her fingers with his own.

"You would have actually done it tonight?" She turned to face him in the dark and he could imagine the imploring look in her eyes.

"No, because I could tell right away that you were afraid. I didn't want to ruin the moment by telling you that." He answered honestly, ashamed of the places his mind had taken him when he had been alone in the bathroom.

"But you thought about it? You want to." Emma continued to press the issue he was gradually becoming more comfortable discussing as he realized just how much they needed to talk about it.

"God, yes Em I thought about it." He closed his eyes knowing she was waiting for him to elaborate. "I thought about how you would feel, the sounds you would make, everything." He emphasized feeling his face redden because he knew she was watching him.

"I thought about you in the bathroom and wondered if you were thinking about me, about us." Emma spoke in a hushed whisper as though she were embarrassed.

"I was." He admitted quietly, answering her silent quest for clarification. "I can't help it."

"I can't either sometimes." Came her mumbled response, only serving to ignite his curiosity about something he had only dreamed of inquiring about.

"Have you touched yourself and thought about me?" The words shocked him, tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them once again leaving him grateful for the shroud of modesty the darkness was providing as he waited with baited breath for her response.

"Yes, in the shower mostly." She answered, her simple confession flooding his mind with exquisite images that only supplemented the ones he already had entertained.

"What do you think about?" He whispered, cautiously curious to know what it was she thought about as she touched herself.

"You being inside me…sometimes," She paused and he could almost hear the debate she was having in her head, "sometimes I think about you talking dirty to me." She muttered so softly he almost didn't catch it.

Eager to lessen her discomfort he placed a kiss to her temple. "You like that?" He teased, working to keep his thoughts clean.

"Sometimes, yes." She turned towards him, capturing his lips in a shy kiss. "Your turn."

Suddenly the enjoyment he had been taking from the conversation vanished as her request reverberated in the night. "I don't want you to feel pressured." He backpedaled, acutely aware of the fantasy he had harbored for so long forcing its way into his stream of focus.

"That's not fair." Emma scolded lightly, pulling away, his vision adjusted just enough to tell she was staring him directly in the eye; waiting.

"I," Will sighed, turning away from her and into the unassuming darkness. "I think about you using your mouth." He danced around the term he felt was too crude to say in front of her hoping she would get the idea.

"A blow job." She stated rather than questioned.

Will cringed, "yes."

"I think about that too." She blurted out before he could tell her not to worry about it.

"Do you like them?" She snuggled up to him once again, the proximity of her body and their topic of conversation melding well together.

"To be honest, I haven't had many." He admitted shyly thinking that he could count the number of times Terri had done it on one hand. "Yes." He answered her question.

"I think about doing that in the shower. I think I could handle that." Emma seemed to be reasoning with herself more than him, taking him off guard with her blunt confession. "Do you want one?"

"A shower?" Will questioned staying on the safe side of the line just in case he had misinterpreted.

"More than that." She clarified, her lips coming into contact with his neck.

"Yes," his voice betrayed his morals as what she was offering began to take shape in his mind.

"There won't be as much mess," she continued speaking through the kisses that were quickly aiding his arousal. "Because of earlier." She stated as though she had been thinking about that for a while.

He opened his mouth, trying to figure out how to agree, abandoning his voice all together when she gently tugged at his arm, coaxing him out of the bed and down the hall as he watched somewhat nervously still admiring her naked form as she bent over to turn the water on.

Neither of them spoke as they stepped in once the steam started filling the air, the hot water mingling with the soap he lathered onto his body, trying desperately to form thoughts as he felt himself continue to harden.

She helped him wash off, her hands seeming to linger between his legs before she knelt down, taking a deep breath. He gasped sharply, tangling his hands in the hair that had never gotten the chance to dry, moaning contentedly at the sight of her lips closing around him.

"God, Emma," His voice was lost in the spray of the shower and he quickly realized he wouldn't be able to remain standing without help, placing one hand on the wall in front of him, supporting the majority of his weight.

Gently he guided her motions with the hand that still remained on the back of her head, going just as much by feel as anything. "Use your tongue sweetie." He encouraged softly hoping he wouldn't make her too nervous by giving instructions.,

His eyes rolled back when she listened and he bit his lip to keep from thrusting into her mouth allowing himself to be captivated by the sight before him, watching as small beads of water worked their way between her breasts.

He lost track of time as he stood under the warm spray, gasping sharply when she took him all the way in, feeling his control slip. With the hand that wasn't busy supporting his weight he tugged at her hair trying to tell her he was close with the voice he couldn't find. She only shook her head subtly, opening her eyes to stare directly into his, silently giving him permission.

"Fuck, Emma," he moaned, letting the curse slip because of what she had revealed earlier, his hand reflexively pulling her closer to him momentarily forgetting everything as he came, lost in the way it felt as she swallowed around him.

* * *

"What do you want to eat? We kind of got distracted." Will smiled at Emma who only blushed and grinned back.

More than anything he wanted to ignore the growling in the pit of his stomach and cuddle up with her on the couch or in bed, bask in the afterglow of the moment they had just shared, the lingering kisses as they had cleaned up and gotten dressed after she had brushed her teeth.

Skipping meals was still something he wasn't the least bit comfortable with and after she had expressed a desire to eat the oatmeal he still wasn't exactly sure why she had bought he wasn't going to give her the chance.

Sometimes he wanted to be inside her mind, to know just how much the eating disorder still played a role in her day to day life. Some days she seemed perfectly fine, normal, and on other days, like today, she seemed like she was still trapped, searching for a way out.

Sometimes he thought maybe being inside her mind would be a brand of hell better left to the imagination.

"What about Chinese?" He offered when it became apparent she was struggling with the question. They had talked about ordering take out the other night but had never gotten around to it.

"Shannon suggested Chinese for tomorrow." Emma responded causing Will to remember the dinner date they had set up with both the football coach and the cheerleading coach. They had scheduled it weeks ago. It had completely slipped his mind. In a way he was looking forward to seeing them, the friends who had become so important throughout the course of Emma's illness to both him and her.

"Peanut butter and jelly?" Will defaulted just wanting to make sure she ate something before the wariness he could see clouding her features took over completely.

They busied themselves making the sandwiches, Emma using a careful amount of precision as she spread the peanut butter then the jelly causing him to wonder if she was thinking about calories.

Their conversation fell into a lull as they sat down and Will decided to restart the one he had abandoned in the car.

"What do you think made you so nervous, about the man?" He asked carefully chewing his second bite of sandwich.

"It felt like he knew. Like he was looking straight through me, straight into my insecurity and all I could think about was what he must be thinking about a grown woman buying Life." She admitted taking a sip of water.

"A lot of adults eat that cereal." Will reasoned.

"I didn't want him to see me buy it and I panicked and the oatmeal was there and it felt so good Will, " Her eyes snapped up to meet his, "It felt so good carrying that canister, like all of the control that feels lost came pouring back and that scares me." Emma looked across the room at the oatmeal sitting on the counter.

"It scares me too." He said honestly, following her gaze, "but I think it's normal. Look at how long you lived that way Emma. It was a source of comfort for you and right now amongst everything that is uncomfortable it's sort of like a weapon against it all, a bad one." Will amended wanting to convey that he wasn't endorsing it.

"I know." She sighed, to his relief continuing to eat her sandwich. "I really wanted to try it again even though the last time I did it tasted horrible. It actually sounded good. Do you think maybe I could just like oatmeal?" She turned her face towards him, her expression open and curious.

"Honestly," Will began, choosing his words carefully, "I don't think so. I think it will always mean too much to you, hold too many memories. I know I can't eat it anymore." He confessed finishing off the last of his sandwich.

He knew how much she wanted to be able to regard it as she would any other food, as troubled as that my be, but deep down he felt she never would be able to. As it was, when he passed by the rows of canisters in the store he was filled with a sort of sadness and an almost conditioned fear at everything the simple American staple had put her through, put him through.

Without warning Emma stood up, crossing the room until she held the canister in her hands, turning to face him with a small grin.

"What are you doing?" Will asked, her expression spurring on his own curiosity as she took and his hand and told him to get the dog.

He followed quietly as she led them both outside, softly commanding Moritz to heel, his own smile widening when he saw the dumpster she was making a beeline towards stopping her moments before she threw the entire container inside.

"No, dump it." He whispered keeping to himself the small fear that if she didn't take the lid off and empty out the contents directly into the trash that she might come back and get it the way she had done with the cookies and the pair of pants he had discovered one night tucked in the corner of a drawer.

Their stroll down the street turned into a four block walk for the dog's sake before they found themselves back inside, snuggled together on the couch. Will was half-asleep when Emma stirred, jumping up and padding softly to the kitchen.

Curiosity got the better of him and he followed realizing for the first time since she had started her new medication that he had forgotten about her taking a second dose in the evenings. He smiled to himself as she downed the pill with a glass of water elated that she had chosen to take it herself even though they had both almost been asleep.

He grabbed her elbow as she passed by, pulling her in for a gentle kiss somehow wanting to convey how proud of her he was as he lead her down the hall towards the bedroom, fighting off sleep with every step.

As they lay curled up together, Emma allowing his hand to rest on her stomach without protest, Will felt at peace with the world, with the progress they had made.

* * *

A/N: A heart-felt thank you to Sierra-Jae who seems to always be on the same wave-length as me and Faded Glass who has been playing catch up and so nicely leaving wonderful reviews along the way. Another thank you to those of you that take that time to review, it means the world, really.


	48. Chapter 47

A/N: Thank you for all of the amazing reviews and Lisa Simpson, you must have reviewed without signing in but I am perfectly fine with your promoting on tumblr. I'm honored really!

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

**Emma's POV**

She couldn't believe it when she found it, tucked behind the box to an old electric fry pan she never used on the top shelf of the linen closet. She hadn't been searching for it. It hadn't even been on her mind when she had gone to see if the old towels they used with the dog would fit somewhere out of sight. Will had never come out and directly said so but she had always assumed he had thrown it away.

Now, as she stood in the sparsely lit hall, the towels forgotten in her arms as she contemplated the item that courtesy of the stool she was precariously perched on was inches from her face, a part of her wished he had.

A part of her.

The part left over told her that if she were to check, if were to just hop on and hop off that it would only be a number. An indicator of her progress in recovery and that she could banish the results from her mind as quickly as they flashed across the display.

It was a Pandora's Box best left unopened. Emma knew that just as strongly as she wanted to know what waited inside. The digits that would mean everything once she had them, the number that just like her body, would be impossible to reduce to nothing no matter how hard she tried.

"Em breakfast," Will's voice filtered down the hall, the two aspects of her life that were always side by side colliding painfully.

There they were; food and weight, never one without the other, unable to co-exist peacefully on the same plane in her mind. One always sought the other out, like the dissonant chord that forever pined for its resolution.

* * *

**Will's POV**

As he headed out to the car he couldn't shake the sensation that Emma had been distracted by something during breakfast. She had eaten alright although there hadn't been much, only a couple English muffins with some honey smeared on top. They were rushed after waking up late to get to the park as it was. Momentarily he thought about going back inside as he waited for Moritz to jump into his kennel in the backseat but whatever it was that had been on her mind, he was sure it would come to light eventually and he didn't want to pressure her.

She smiled at him when she stepped outside, looking radiant in a light blue summer dress that he had always admired from the back of her closet all traces of whatever had been bothering her absolved from her features as she crawled in beside him and he backed out of the driveway, headed for the destination they had all decided to meet at.

The ride over was comfortable, filled with pointless laughter over cheesy song lyrics and Sue and Shannon were already sitting at a picnic table underneath a shade tree by the time they pulled up.

Will shot Emma a reassuring smile as she got out before he did the same, walking around the back of the car to get the dog wondering despite already knowing if he was going to catch any comments from Sue.

"So that's where you get your hair tips." Sue's voice reached his ears barely two seconds after Moritz leapt out of the car, bounding happily over to the table.

Emma had once jokingly pointed out how similar the texture of his hair was to that of the retriever's coat and ever since then he had dreaded the moment Sue and the dog would meet, knowing that he wouldn't get away without being on the receiving end of some jibe.

"And maple syrup," He called, nudging Emma's shoulder playfully with his own as they followed behind the dog that was now sitting next to Shannon eying the football she held just out of his reach with an intense gaze.

"What kind of dog is that?" Sue turned to Will, standing up to pull him into a hug. "It looks dreadful. I almost feel bad for it." Even though her words were meant to tease, the embrace he found himself wrapped up in was genuine.

"Chesapeake Bay Retriever." He answered, "and good to see you too Sue."

"Ginger!" Sue's face erupted into one of her grins that he always felt privileged to glimpse. He caught her whisper that his fiancé looked amazing as the two came together for a hug much like the one he had just shared.

Soon Shannon was beside him, her hand clasped on his shoulder as she asked excitedly if the dog would retrieve shooting Sue a knowing look as she pulled him off in the opposite direction of Emma and the Cheerio's coach leaving Will with the sneaking suspicion that this had been planned before they had arrived. Not that he minded, he loved that Sue and Emma could have the chance to talk on their own. There were probably things that it was easier for Emma to discuss with someone that had been where she was and he respected that.

Emma shot him a questioning look and he only nodded, smiling in assurance as he refocused his attention on Shannon and the football that Moritz was impatiently drilling holes into with his amber eyes.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

"You're big day is coming up." Sue began talking as soon as they set foot on the gravel walking path that meandered aimlessly through the grounds.

"I know." Emma responded, side-stepping a tree that had fallen partially into her side of the trail, not yet ready to admit just how nervous she was.

"You're worried about the dress aren't you?" The older woman spoke softly even though they were now out of ear shot and Emma felt amazed at her extraordinary insight.

Standing in front of Sophie, a full-length mirror and a couple of customers as she had examined the gown she had eventually decided on while her friend had played with her hair, arranging it in various ways and providing commentary on what she thought looked the best was one thing. Walking down an aisle with every last person's eyes fixated on her was quite another. What most women dreamed of, the adoring looks of family and friends, she was dreading.

"I'm worried about how I will look." Emma didn't feel the need to clarify what was really underneath her simple confession the way she would have had to if she had been talking to anyone else, confident she would understand.

"There's nothing I can say that will take that fear away." Sue stopped moving when they reached an intersection, turning to face her. "I was worried about how my wrists and ankles looked in my graduation gown. Now, which way?" She motioned to the paths, the decision that seemed to represent all the decisions in her life, one leading to open grassland and the other continuing under the protection of a grove of trees.

Emma chose the one with the trees, feeling their conversation deserved the secrecy they provided, feeling that what she was about to reveal mandated at least that much. That it was too incriminating to divulge in such an open space.

"Did you ever do something when you were recovering that you knew at the time you shouldn't have?" Emma bent down, moving away from the words she had just uttered and towards a lone twig that sat in the middle of the path.

"Like jump on a scale?" Sue pretended to question what Emma guessed she already knew. "Yes." The woman admitted watching as Emma flung the stick at a tree to her left.

"I've lost five pounds." Emma abandoned her charade in the face of her friend's personal experience.

"Did you tell him?" Sue inquired, her tone compassionate as she stepped to the side, letting Emma cross the small wooden bridge over the gorge that at one point had probably held the ambition of being a stream until time had gotten in the way.

"Do you really think he has noticed?" Emma paused, leaning casually on the railing, deflecting her question with a question because she wasn't sure how to explain why she hadn't said anything to Will yet.

"I'm sure he has." She replied with a soft, serious tone, "and you need to tell him because if you don't you will only continue to lose and no matter what you tell yourself, that only leads to one thing and I know you don't want to go back down that road. Hey," Sue snapped her fingers, ripping Emma's attention away from the bird that had been flying above them. "I know you didn't lose it intentionally but I also know how wonderful the knowledge that you lost that weight is and you need to say something because trust me, he already knows."

* * *

**Shannon's POV**

Shannon applauded loudly as the burly retriever brought the football back, dropping it at Will's feet even though she had been the one to throw it, his expression stopping the comment she had been ready to make about his training leaving something to be desired. He looked apprehensive and troubled.

"She's lost weight." He didn't turn to face her, instead he plucked the ball off the ground and heaved it through the air, wiping his hand on his pants the same way she had after she had realized just how much the young dog slobbered.

"It's not on purpose I don't think." He continued, his eyes following Moritz' movements as he sniffed around a shrub that the football had rolled underneath. "And it's not a lot but I can tell."

Shannon whistled as the dog came trotting back, his jaws spread wide to encompass the ball that was only barely small enough to fit wanting to fill the silence between her and Will as much as prolong the situation she wasn't sure how to tread.

"She's so small naturally. It wouldn't take much for you to notice." She reasoned, feeling like she was stating the obvious and doing absolutely nothing to put him at ease. "Have you said anything?"

This time she turned her head, letting her eyes rest on Will, squinting through the sunlight when he looked over at her. She hoped she was saying the right things.

"Maybe you should say something." She continued when he didn't answer out loud effectively telling that he hadn't brought it up. "If she doesn't say something first that is."

"Yeah, I guess." Will agreed with a sigh staring down at Moritz who flopped happily to the ground, his sides shaking as he panted heavily, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, the picture of canine contentment, all the proof naysayers needed to see that ignorance was sometimes bliss.

"It's a touchy subject." He admitted his gaze wandering off into the distance where Sue and Emma were emerging from a small spattering of trees on the trail she often walked in the evenings.

"I can imagine it is." Shannon stepped forward, making sure their friends were occupied before she pulled Will into what she hoped was a supportive hug because at the moment, she didn't know what else to do. "She's probably just stressed, especially with the wedding."

Will tensed and drew back, his eyes fixed on hers. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have waited to propose. It wasn't exactly planned." His face fell and Shannon could see that this was something he had thought about for a while.

No one had ever proposed to her. No one had ever even shown an interest in liking her in that way. Her friendship with Will and the hugs she had received from him were the closest thing she had ever gotten to a real relationship with a man in her life and often she had found herself staring at rings on married women's fingers wondering what it was like to wear that symbol. To have something that told the world that someone thought the world of her. It was a coveted dream that over time she had come to accept that she might never have.

"I think that having that ring, that proof that you aren't going to go anywhere has been more helpful than you know Will." Shannon glanced away, determined to not let him see her tears over just how much having an engagement ring would mean to her. "Now, show me that trick you taught him, the one where he jumps over your arms!" She hastily wiped at her cheeks, pitching her voice up, pushing down her feelings of regret over the life he and Emma shared that even though, far from perfect, was a hell of a lot closer than she was ever going to get.

Sometimes, in the comfort of her own home where no one would ever know her thoughts or happen upon her while she had them she wondered if she wouldn't go through some of what Emma had if it meant she could have someone like Will. It was a secret she would never reveal to anyone but herself, how badly she wanted what they had.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

All three of them cheered Will on as he ran through the tricks he had been working on over the past few weeks. The breeder that had told Will that Chesapeake Bay Retrievers were difficult to train would be eating their words if they could see their puppy now.

He started off by having the dog weave in and out of his legs before whispering the command to circle to the left that Emma was certain the others didn't catch. He twirled around as well before using the hand signal to get the retriever to spin in the other direction, again mimicking the dog.

The sport of canine freestyle was right up his alley, combining choreographed tricks to the beat of a song and Emma had encouraged him to try and come up with a routine for a demonstration show that was coming up in Columbus. She knew how badly he wanted to compete and considering that his love for dogs paralleled his love for all things Broadway she thought it made sense for him to attain at last one of the two dreams.

She secretly observed Sue and Shannon out of the corner of her eye when Will knelt down for the finale, spreading his arms out to either side of his body and calling for Moritz to jump. Emma held her breath hoping the dog didn't decide to do so half-heartedly as he occasionally had when Will had been attempting to train the dog in the initial stages.

She had always stuck around to watch him work with Moritz, amazed at his patience and learning little things along the way. Will had started out kneeling on the ground with a dowel he had taught Moritz to jump over tucked under one arm with the end extended past his hand so when the dog jumped over his arm he was essentially jumping over the dowel as well. Will had called it a stimulus cue, saying that when Moritz saw the dowel he knew it meant he had to jump so he wouldn't notice jumping over Will's arm in the process. As the dog had grown more comfortable Will had gradually shortened the amount that had stuck past his arm until it was no longer visible. Eventually he had taken to setting the dowel down in front of him and only holding out his arm, parallel to the ground and to her surprise Moritz had sailed right over. He had repeated the entire process with his other arm and soon the dog was able to run towards him, leap over his right arm, trot around behind him and effortlessly clear the left. It had taken three weeks and it was Will's favorite trick to show off. It was her favorite too even though the one time she had tried it Moritz had collided with her instead of going over her arm because she had flinched just before the dog had leapt much to Will's amusement.

Sue and Shannon applauded liberally and Will pretended to take a bow, making a grand sweeping gesture with his left hand and to Emma's shock Moritz dropped down into what Will had often termed a play bow, hunkered down on his elbows while his rear was raised in the air. She hadn't seen that trick yet and she forgot everything weighing on her mind as she clapped for their performance as well.

Everyone said their good-byes, Sue throwing in a couple more remarks about Moritz' coat and Shannon lobbing the football until she had ended up getting it herself when Moritz had bounded off to the car and wagged his tail expectantly by the back door, telling his owners in a not too concealed fashion that he was ready to go home.

The ride home had been quiet but unburdened and as Emma headed towards the couch with Will she felt content with the day and vowed that somehow she would bring up what she and Sue had discussed.

* * *

**Will's POV**

"For the record, I don't think we should watch this." Will said as Emma sat down next to him already zeroed in on the TV as the opening credits began to flash across the screen, the music already emotional and haunting.

"I want to." Emma responded distantly leaning back against him so her head was on his chest, grabbing his arms and wrapping them around her body.

He knew she wanted to. He had known since she had seen the advertisement and hadn't been able to tear herself away. Honestly, he had been intrigued as well although he hadn't said anything hoping that she wouldn't express an interest in the documentary that was now seconds away from starting.

Will was happy Emma couldn't see his face as he involuntarily cringed when a painfully thin teenager walked out of the hospital room, groggily meandering her way towards the room where she would be weighed. It was like looking into a time capsule, an unwanted glimpse into their past, chronicling what he had gone through with the woman who now rested in his arms.

"She doesn't look that skinny." Emma commented and he felt his mouth drop open as he glanced down at the top of her head not wanting to think about what that comment meant.

She wasn't saying it as though she was hinting that the woman shouldn't be there. Emma would never do that but it was more like a casual observation that was as unnerving as it was sad.

His eyes flickered back to the TV to catch her weight, eight-six pounds, lower than Emma ever had been although not by much. He wondered what Emma thought of that, if she thought this girl was better than her at having an eating disorder or if she felt sympathetic. Maybe she felt both. That would fit with everything else the eating disorder mangled beyond salvation.

"She doesn't look like she weighs eighty-six pounds." Emma whispered possibly more to herself than him, cocking her head to the side in the way he usually did when confused.

"Yes, she does." He counteracted, leaving a fair amount of emphasis on each word, unable to keep quiet anymore. "She looks very sick, unhealthy."

He wanted to say so much more than that. He wanted to tell her that the way he could count her ribs and how her shoulder blades were sharp and angular was almost physically painful to watch. He wanted to say that she looked like death warmed over to him. More lines he didn't know if he should cross.

There had been a couple of times when the severity of how thin Emma had been had really slammed into him. One, the night he had asked if she knew how much she weighed and she had stripped in front of him and the other when he had watched her getting dressed after she had weighed herself the first time in Kristen's office. Whether that particular reaction was spurred on by the number that had appeared on the scale, the one that had surprised even him he wasn't sure, but the way she had looked as she had bent over to grab her clothes was something he would never forget.

Reluctantly he refocused on the television again, his breath catching in his throat when Emma started to talk.

"I weighed myself today." She said, not turning away from the screen, watching as another stick-like figure climbed on a scale and the camera zoomed in for the number he didn't want her to see.

"I'm sorry Em, but I can't watch this." He confessed as he felt his eyes water because the young woman's red hair reminded him so much of the woman pressed against him.

She didn't say anything as he reached for the remote, holding back his sigh of relief when the screen went black.

"I know you've lost weight." He admitted carefully, trying to gage her reaction, praying that Shannon had the right idea.

Last night as he had hovered over her body even in the darkness afforded by the blankets he had been able to tell when his hands had slid over her hipbones, slightly more prominent than they had been. He knew she hadn't lost much but he also knew that losing anything when an eating disorder was involved was a dangerous thing.

"How much?" He couldn't stop his question as inappropriate as it may have been.

"Five pounds." She revealed, taking a breath before she continued. "I was talking with Sue today, about how that made me feel."

"How does it make you feel?" He pressed when she fell silent, his voice sounding ridiculous to his own ears, like that of an overpaid therapist.

"Torn. On one hand, I know I'm only fifteen pounds away from one hundred which is seven pounds away from-"

"Stop," Will whispered, pulling her closer to his chest, not wanting her to say what he knew was coming next, her lowest weight.

"I think recovery is like taking a walk." Emma began again, to his relief not drawing attention to the fact that he hadn't let her finish the answer to the question he had asked for. "Like when you are walking and you realize at the half-way point that you just don't have any more energy to keep moving forward but because you are halfway it would take just as much time to continue as it would to turn around but no matter what, turning around always sounds easier. I know I'm past the half-way mark Will but despite that, and despite that it would get me absolutely nowhere, turning around still sounds easier than continuing."

"Are you thinking about turning around?" He asked tentatively, using her terminology because it made the words and the meaning that lurked behind them easier to handle.

"The thought is always there but the amount of effort that would go into turning around, that keeps me moving forward. I don't want to do that to you, to myself, to us." She spoke with a contemplative tone that told Will she probably had this discussion with herself on a daily basis and he couldn't even begin to fathom how exhausting that must be.

"What about Sue? Does she still think like that?" He asked, genuinely curious and cautiously hopeful.

"She has moments but they are relatively rare anymore. She once told me it took years to reach that point." Emma leaned back, peering up at him with a small smile. "I have you though."

"Yes, you do." Will agreed, smiling down at her realizing that they hadn't eaten dinner yet.

"I realize, this is horrible timing but what do you want for dinner. I'm thinking sandwiches." He took the initiative, making the decision he was fairly certain would have been more of a struggle for her today.

She simply nodded getting off the couch of her own accord and heading towards the kitchen. All of which, he took as a good sign. A sign that she wasn't turning around.

He followed her, stopping at the fridge to grab the bologna and cheese while she got the plates and bread. They ate in relative silence until she tentatively reached for the bread a second time.

"I want another. I can do that right?" She questioned and he hated that she felt the need to ask permission about an amount that was still within normal.

"That's perfectly fine." He responded easily, refraining from mentioning that it was probably good that she ate more considering her confession on the couch.

"Do you want one?" She asked, offering the loaf of bread.

Will stayed quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. He really hadn't been that hungry when he had sat down to eat and had only planned on one sandwich. Now, as he warred over staying true to what his body was telling him and helping her feel at ease, he hesitated. Maybe being honest was the better way to go. If she really needed to be eating more and if that meant occasionally she would be eating more than him it wouldn't do any good to be dishonest.

"I'm good actually." He said, taking the loaf anyways and placing it on the table. "It's perfectly fine to eat another." He reassured her when he saw her eyes widen momentarily.

He contemplated their conversation as she went about making the next sandwich thinking that it almost could have fit somewhere closer to the beginning of their relationship instead of after three months of treatment and he couldn't help but wonder if it would be like this for a long time. If certain things she said or did wouldn't seem like steps backward even when he knew that in reality she was holding her ground.

She made it through her second sandwich without any real complications but he had kept her talking about different things the entire time, trying to lessen the anxiety he knew was going to slam into her as soon as she really had the time to think about what she had just done.

It only took ten minutes after her plate was cleared for her panicked eyes to find his. He could see the panic attack that was coming as she stood up, holding her stomach, shooting frenzied glances at the empty plate than back to him. He stayed where he was, waiting to see if she could calm herself down.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

She could feel the panic rising inside her. Clawing at her body and ripping the breath from her throat in elongated gasps. Frantically she started to pace, her mind fabricating scenarios about what had just happened that would never see the light of the real world, only the darkness that liked to play in the corners of her mind.

Her eyes squeezes shut of their own accord and her hands clamped over either side of her head, retaliating against the voice that told her everyone would know that she had eaten more than him if she so much as stepped outside. Like the information would be suspended in some kind of thought bubble above her head for the world to read.

"Emma calm down." Will appeared in front of her, one hand placed gently on her upper arm just below her shoulder, the other in a loose fist at his side. "No one knows. No one will know." He assured, somehow able to ascertain just what it was she was so bent up over without her having to so much as open her mouth.

"Take this, please." The hand that had been at his side raised, opening to reveal the tranquilizer she had been given when they had changed her medication. "Please," he repeated, his eyes searching hers, pleading.

Carefully she regarded the small yellow pill that rested unassumingly in the palm of his hand before she turned and grabbed for the bottle of water she had carried with her at the park on the coffee table behind her realizing that at the moment she was desperate for anything that even held so much as a glint of a chance of taking away the unbearable panic coursing through her body.

There was no immediate effect. Her muscles didn't instantly stop supporting her weight like she had so often seen in the movies. Instead she continued to pace, stalking from the living room to the kitchen and back, clutching lightly at her chest in an attempt to quell her racing heart. She didn't notice that over the course of the next fifteen minutes her strides grew less determined; aimless and a bit lost. When she almost connected with the coffee table Will appeared out of nowhere at her side, leading her back over to the couch. Her last thought was about how wonderful it was that a feeling of calm had finally overcome her as she snuggled up to him.

* * *

**Will's POV**

He stopped pretending to stare mindlessly at the TV when she began to fall asleep against him, smoothing the hair away from her face with a frown he was glad she would never see. He was grateful they had the tranquilizer on hand but he hated watching her slip into its effect, the slightly dazed look in her eyes that indicated she wasn't fully aware of what was going on before her breathing had slowed and she had drifted off. He doubted she was aware that what was happening was because of the medication.

He thought back to her metaphor, the comparison she had drawn between taking a walk and recovery and he wondered just how much of her thoughts revolved around such things. It was like she was still searching for a way to explain it to herself in a way that made sense. In his time with her, his experience with the eating disorder, he had gained enormous amounts of insight but if she was still incapable of fully comprehending there was little hope for him.

His brief talk with Shannon where she had called him out over the concern he had been trying to hide had left its mark as well and he was glad he had taken her advice. Tonight more than ever as he had listened to Emma he had wanted to tell her that he preferred her body the way it was but he didn't know if that would be a line that perhaps he shouldn't cross. On many occasions, most recently when she had questioned him about fantasies he had indirectly alluded to as much but he wasn't sure he should actually say the words. He didn't know how she would interpret them.

She knew about how he had felt before, how he had avoided parts of her body when she had been nothing but bones against him and tonight he had made a special point to try and convey that the woman they had watched on TV was in no way desirable to him. In a way he figured she could piece his opinion together herself.

Emma, as much as she had gained in recovery, didn't seem to appreciate her body for what it was now. He had caught her running her hands over different areas and grimacing and he knew without a doubt that what he viewed as healthy she saw as fat. Honestly, he wasn't sure how to work around that because it was a mindset that even therapy could only to so much against.

During a particularly powerful throw from Shannon, when his attention had shifted from the carefree retriever charging after the football he had caught Emma staring enviously at a young woman who had bypassed Sue and her on a bicycle. He was certain she wasn't aware she had done it but she had kind of shrunk back into herself for a while until the woman had ridden out of sight.

What made it worse was that the blonde really had been skinnier than Emma. An unhealthy skinny that screamed eating disorder just as loudly to him as it probably had to the women she had buzzed past. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for her to watch people around her succeed at something that had once been hers to hold against the world. It didn't seem fair. The only thing he could compare it too was the sickening envy he felt towards performers who had made it to Broadway. He was forever destined to categorize them as better than him because of the ambition they had possessed to make it where had only dreamed of going. Those instances always made him re-evaluate his life and although he would always come back to being satisfied with the niche he had created for himself it was an unsettling process. More than once he had entertained the notion of heading to New York, of being the man standing center stage that the auditorium cheered for. If he occasionally found himself seriously considering where he had and hadn't gone in his life after seeing someone perform he could only imagine what it was like for Emma. His consideration and potential deviation wasn't deadly, hers was. For her, turning around on that metaphorical walk she had spoken of would only lead to disaster.

He didn't know what to do with her confession about weighing herself. Knowing that you were only a stone's throw away from something that had once been everything would have to be unrealistically difficult to deal with. She was fifteen pounds away from a disorder that she seemed destined to spend the rest of her life fighting. If he were faced with that, with the burden of knowing that he might never be able to partake in something the rest of the world took for granted without some sort of war in his head he would probably come dangerously close to retreating as well.

It troubled him deeply that she had lost weight and it bothered him even more that she was torn over how to interpret something he saw as black and white. She was lost in shades of grey he felt he needed special glasses to see. She had expressed a desire to stay recovered and he knew she had meant what she had said but he also knew that sometimes, she was still powerless against what had taken up residence in her mind.

It wasn't going to be easy, convincing her to eat more when she already felt like she was consuming more than enough. He had read about hypermetabolism and its prevalence in those recovering from anorexia. It seemed inefficient to say the least. That her body would demand more food but then again it was repairing a multitude of damages. The one thing that had never left his mind since he had heard it in a session at Rivergroves, was that in an eating disorder, no organ was spared.

Again, he found himself simply staring at her as his thoughts trickled away and the present inched its way back in. She looked so peaceful when she slept and even though he was aware that right now her slumber was induced by the altering of chemicals in her brain he wished that glimpses of that peace would creep into her life more often.

Their wedding was fast approaching. He had yet to discuss with her how she felt about that, whether she was nervous, excited or both. She had seemed excited the day she had come home teasing that she and Sophie had found a dress. He couldn't wait to see her walk down the aisle and he knew that despite everything the day would end well because no matter what happened he would finally be able to call her his wife.

* * *

A/N: For those of you wanting to ring my neck for the lack of intimate content in this chapter, be patient. Again, Lisa Simpson (if you skimmed over the author's note at the top which sometimes I do without even noticing) feel free to promote on tumblr! It would be great to snag more readers!


	49. Chapter 48

A/N: I am terribly sorry for the amount of time it took me to update. I hope this chapter is up to standard, whatever that standard may be!

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

**Emma's POV**

It had been quite some since Emma had found herself seated next to Will on the plush couch along the wall in Kristen's office. For the last few weeks she had been slacking off on her regular appointments but Will had finally put his foot down a couple days after they had discussed her recent weight loss.

He had been the one to call while she had attempted to hold on to her delusion that she no longer required standing appointments with a Nutritionist. It was that concern, his concern that had gotten them here. All she wanted to do was to avoid the problem and he knew that.

"Well, hey guys! Long time no see!" Kristen practically bounced into the room not bothering to shut the door behind her as she crossed the floor carefully taking a seat across from them, her eyes briefly flickering to Will before settling on her, their open and warm expression doing nothing to ease the dread Emma felt when the young women spoke.

"What do you say we do the weight thing? I need to see how much you have lost. He can stay." Kristen motioned to Will who had placed one hand on her knee obviously figuring out why the door had been left open the in same way she had. Why close the door if you are going to walk out right away.

The woman exited the room in the same flurry of activity that had accompanied her entrance leaving Emma rooted to her spot on the couch, torn between wanting to get the inevitable over with and perhaps postponing it just a little bit longer.

The object was so simple, so disgustingly simple and yet it, and what it would show, represented the most complicated thing that had ever entered her life.

She had seen a poster hanging slightly askew at McKinley once, 'You are worth more than this number' it had proclaimed with a picture of a digital scale emblazoned across it, the words written in segmented letters where the actual number should be. Back then she hadn't been affected be even a sliver of eating disordered thinking and even though her background in psychology afforded her a better understanding of the mindset she had thought it crazy that someone could take everything they thought they were and reduce it to a number.

The poster had been the mediocre response of the high school to National Eating Disorder Awareness Week and it had gone largely unnoticed by most of the student body save those who suffered Emma now realized. The students walking the halls on empty stomachs, lonely, desperate and resilient had probably glanced longingly in the direction of that small message of hope every time they passed by caught in a mix of shame over what they were doing and pride because they could do it. Nothing else had been done all week and sometimes Emma wondered if someone hadn't spoken up, given a speech about the warning signs or something, anything, if maybe she would have realized what was happening in her own life sooner. Of course she was the master at convincing herself that something was normal when it wasn't but still, she wondered.

"Come on." Will said softly standing only to take a few steps and grab the scale Kristen hadn't bothered to set out. Emma watched warily as he placed it to the side of the small table, stepping on it with one foot to activate it. They both knew the routine.

As she undressed she allowed her hands to brush over her stomach, over the hip bones that seemed slightly more prominent, an action that did not go unnoticed by Will who regarded her with a gentle smile doing everything in his power to make her feel comfortable.

With her eyes closed she stepped onto the scale, the anxiety that always accompanied the process crashing into her and in that instant it was as if the months of treatment, therapy, meal plans and progress vanished. All she wanted to do was cry. She knew she wouldn't be allowed to look but that didn't stop the almost paralyzing fear as she entertained thoughts of what the display would read. She wasn't able to even be honest with herself, back and forth about whether she wanted it higher or lower.

If it was lower it would mean the inevitability of having to eat more food would officially become a non-inevitability. If it was higher it would mean she weighed more, simple logic distorted by the portion of her mind that still longed for the version of herself she had come to know when she had been sick. If it was lower her meal plan would be altered, added to, each extra item doubling the anxiety she felt about something that was crucial to survival. If it was lower, to that one deeply entrenched treacherous section of her mind, it meant she had succeeded.

If it was higher, in some way, she wouldn't be good enough.

The part of her still held captive by the eating disorder would scoff and call her a failure. If it was lower the part of her working towards a normal life would cluck its tongue and squint in disappointment and again, she wouldn't be good enough.

Somewhere between the time she had briefly scanned the poster, resisting the urge to straighten it, and wondered how someone could become so obsessed with something so small she had done just that. She had taken everything she thought she was and reduced it to a number and she had done it without even realizing it.

Will's heavy sigh told her all she needed to know and she hated herself for the momentary elation she felt. She was in recovery. She wasn't supposed to be losing weight. She wasn't supposed to be drawn in by that prospect but what was supposed to be and what really was never added up in her life.

"How bad?" Emma questioned lightly, knowing that Will would at least give her that much as she stepped down purposefully avoiding the item he was sliding out of the way, out of her sight in case she tried to look.

"It's down Em." He said simply with a troubled tone that made her heart clench.

She felt trapped in the small room, like there wasn't enough space to encase her body as she pulled her clothes back on and joined Will on the couch once again. She hadn't been trying to lose weight but the knowledge that she had, that she was a few pounds closer to the body she had at one point worked so hard to maintain and shove in the face of everyone she felt was better than her was both sickening and captivating.

Will beckoned Kristen in when she knocked politely and Emma held her breath while the blonde read the scale she had just been standing on, a small frown gracing her features as she copied the number onto the legal pad Emma had become so familiar with.

"Are you stressed about something Emma?" Kristen asked not looking up from the notes she was still scribbling.

"I'm not trying to lose weight!" Emma blurted out, desperate to convey that she was still trying and worried that the woman and the man beside her wouldn't believe her.

"I know honey." This time Kristen did glance up, rewarding Emma with a compassionate smile. "The wedding is coming up. Are you nervous about that?"

Briefly Emma thoughts transported back to her walk with Sue on the trail in the park, about how the older woman had known that she was nervous without her having said a thing.

"Why didn't we get Chinese?" Emma turned to Will, "Shannon wanted Chinese why didn't we get any?" She knew she was avoiding Kristen's question and from the look on Will's face he was aware of it as well.

"They didn't want to make you uncomfortable." Will answered, grabbing one of her hands in his. "Are you nervous, about the wedding, are you nervous?" He repeated as though the words couldn't decide on a proper order before they left his mouth.

Staring into his eyes Emma didn't want to answer the question. She didn't want him to think that the wedding was going to be too much. Slowly she glanced down at her lap fighting with the voice that told her that her thighs were huge, combating that because she was stressed she was feeling less comfortable with her body.

"Yes… It should be the happiest day of my life and I'm worried I will look fat in the dress." She supplied, not daring to look at Will but rather the hand that gently squeezed hers.

"It's common for women to lose weight before their wedding because of the stress." Kristen jumped in saving Emma from having to confront Will. "I think we would all agree that you losing weight is probably not the best thing right now or ever for that matter."

Emma sighed wishing that all of her insecurity would exit her body as easily as her breath did briefly considering the unfairness behind that statement. It wouldn't be okay for her to lose weight when the rest of the population was congratulated for doing just that. She herself had been on the receiving end of compliments from admirers of her naturally slender frame, unaware of what was really going on. They had never felt like compliments but rather she had felt embarrassed, graciously accepting the praise for a disorder that had been destroying her life yet making her appear successful and disciplined to those around her. That was hard to let go of.

Once, at a school function, she had refused a piece of cake and a fellow faculty member, patting their rounded stomach with remorse, had spoken highly of her will power. She had smiled politely, torn between wanting to say that they had no idea and feeling superior over bypassing the sweet they had been unable to pass up. It was these awkward situations that kept her from ever making a comment about anything someone else did or did not eat because she could never truly know what was going on in that person's life. If that fellow coworker had been aware that on that day she had only consumed only two bowls of oatmeal, as she had for weeks prior and had spent hours in front of the mirror critiquing her body they probably would have regarded her with pity instead of respect.

"How long have you been nervous around food?" Kristen asked surprising Emma with her change in tactic.

* * *

**Will's POV**

Will stayed quiet as Emma let go of his hand and focused on nothing in the distance obviously working on the answer to Kristen's question.

"I remember not eating certain foods because I was afraid of eating them wrong." Emma said softly, "like baked potatoes. My dad would fix them but I would never eat them because I was worried I would do it wrong. It was easier to not eat them."

He didn't try to stop himself as he openly stared at his fiancé wondering what kind of hell it must have been to have been nervous around something so commonplace for most of her life.

"One time I was at a friends' and she made this stupid concoction and at the time I was so impressed with her doing that, getting food by herself, and I remember telling my dad about it that night…"Emma trailed off staring at the carpet that he had memorized from their first visit.

"What was it?" Kristen prompted in much the same way he was known to do.

"It was really unhealthy." Emma shuddered, looking guilty. "She poured melted butter over those big marsh mellows people use in hot chocolate. My dad told me that sounded really unhealthy. I don't think he meant anything by it but I never touched it again."

"Do you remember what you felt, after your dad said that?" Kristen prompted much to Emma's dismay.

"Guilt and shame, the same things I always feel I guess." Emma answered reaching out to straighten the table that was already in line with the carpet it sat on, one of many tell-tale signs he had learned to hone in on over the course of their relationship.

"Would you say that the feeling of guilt is like knowing that you did something bad but that shame is everyone else knowing that you are something bad?" He watched as Kristen's eyes tracked Emma's hands causing her to become aware of what she was doing and sit back. A prime example of one of the feelings his fiancé had just mentioned.

Will watched Emma's mouth fall open slightly as the Nutrtionist's question sunk in, undoubtedly hitting a nerve because for a moment she appeared to be staring at nothing, lost in a tidal wave of thoughts he was certain would wear him down in a heartbeat.

"Yes." Emma glanced up at Kristen, her voice cracking over the simple answer to an even simpler question while he tried to imagine what it would be like to go through life believing that everyone around you thought you were a bad person just because you were there.

Suddenly some of her anxiety made sense. When she shrunk away from a person on the street on an evening walk or barely acknowledged a passerby that called out a casual greeting. Emma never thought of those interactions as someone merely being polite. To her there was always an ulterior motive, a series of judgments passed on her from the moment she came into contact with another person. A friendly neighbor stopping to ask what she had planned for the day was probably reduced to nothing more than a veiled attempt to pry, to see what kind of activities she would be partaking in and how they stacked up to the ones they had penciled in on their calendar. An innocuous inquiry suddenly became a threatening interrogation.

Her father off-handedly commenting that a snack of marsh mellows dipped in melted butter was unhealthy was confirmation that she had just done something wrong and by extension, in her mind, the man had stopped barely a step away from actually telling her that. What she had done was what any person tried to do. She avoided future anxiety about what he had said by avoiding the food that had prompted the comment and later in life she had finally succeeded in avoiding the anxiety she felt around food altogether by narrowing her diet down to a simple, safe, worry-free, healthy bowl of oatmeal.

In a way the eating disorder was like an exaggerated response to alleviating the focal point of a veritable blizzard of negative emotions. What had started as a way to take away something that had plagued her for years, anxiety around food, had become the very thing that now threatened to ensure that she would never feel normal around a piece of cake or a bowl of oatmeal ever again. That didn't seem fair. In her mind she had only been trying to make things better, more manageable. There was not a single person on the planet that wasn't guilty of that.

On a daily basis she experienced more panic over things he would never think twice about. A parent telling him something he had eaten was unhealthy was a prime example of one of those things. It seemed his mother had always been nagging him about his eating habits but he had never cared. Not for the first time he wondered what it was that made Emma so able to recall anything that could be interpreted as criticism. It was like some sort of evolved mechanism for detecting negativity existed in her brain. Will smiled at that thought, more of her psychology talk then she knew was wearing off on him.

"So a long time then." Kristen murmured glancing quickly at the clock.

"I was in elementary school." Emma admitted quietly.

He felt his eyebrows pulling together as he contemplated Emma's initial answer. When he had been in elementary school food had been a bargaining chip, a highly valued resource, something passed under the tables in the hopes of getting something better in return. As a kid he had never thought twice about anything he had consumed and if someone had made a joke about how he would regret it when he was older he had shrugged it off. Emma had apparently internally cataloged every comment that so much as whispered at the idea that she might be doing something wrong and in typical Emma form, after that fear had been raised, she had avoided whatever had prompted it. He wondered how many things in her life she avoided now because of something in her past.

"Wow, a very long time then." Kristen amended. "I know this is hard for you Emma but we are going to have to up your meal plan and just for a while I want to get you back on Ensure, twice a day, just for a while until things get worked out."

Will turned to glance at Emma remembering from her comments while she had been at Rivergroves how much she had detested being forced to drink the mixture during the day. She had often said it made her feel like a child, incapable of nourishing herself. He hadn't told her at the time and he doubted he would but that analogy had seemed pretty apt to him. She wasn't a child still learning about the intricacies of feeding but she was still having to learn how to eat again and in a counterintuitive twist, not only was she having to remember what it felt like to take in food but she was also having to navigate the murky waters of how it felt to be hungry, to be without food.

On more than one occasion she had talked about difficult and exhausting it was to feel hungry. Some days the sensation was a minor inconvenience and on others it plummeted her into a frenzy and she would seek out food worried that somehow, if she continued on for even another minute while her body demanded food, that she would slip back into the disorder.

He thought it was perhaps one of the cruelest aspects of eating disorder recovery that not only did she have to learn how to eat but also, how to be hungry.

In a way he could understand her anxiety about her stomach growling or feeling empty. He had often likened it to singing. Many times when he learned a new song there was one note that he absolutely loved coming to. Everything about it, the inhale before, the way he could let his voice seamlessly swell into the pitch and how he was able to shape the note in various manners all added to the anticipation of a flawless execution. This sensation stayed, present every time he ran through the song, until he messed up.

As soon as his voice cracked, he didn't get enough air or for some reason he had trouble hitting the pitch that sense of excitement over the note became a sense of dread and thought processes in singing were very important. When one began to view a section of a song as difficult and perhaps beyond their capability they sealed their own grave.

It would only grow worse with time. The opening chords of the song that once seemed to jolt his senses began to give way to the burdensome knowledge that 'the note' was coming up and the fact that at one point he had reveled in that note only made it worse.

Everything about the song he had once loved or at least felt neutral towards become wrapped up in the fear of getting to, and potentially missing, that one note.

Through many discussions with Emma he had managed to glean that at one point she hadn't really thought much about feeling hungry in much the same way he hadn't thought about the opening chords to a particular song. As soon as feeling hungry had become a threat, the way the chords became because of the situation he knew they would bring, the feeling had become riddled with anxiety and now, if she felt hungry all it did was remind her of the days in which she had purposefully starved the way the first note of a song reminded him of the times he had botched something he had previously took for granted.

Occasionally he avoided a song if he had been having trouble with a sectopm especially if that section had come easily before. He didn't want to deal with the frustration of not getting it right when he had in the past. More than likely when Emma felt hungry all it did was drudge up the memories of dreary days centered around a fixed amount of oatmeal, endless cold and extreme isolation. If he had to deal with that every time his stomach growled he would grow to hate the sensation to.

"Emma, do you ever feel like you have the right to exist just the way you are?" Kristen asked, lowering her voice so that it was soothing.

"I always feel like I'm not good enough." Emma responded, taking a deep breath. "Always."

Will, once again, remained quiet attempting to place himself in that mindset. Sure there were things he regretted in his life but had always managed to find a sense of peace with who he was. He didn't think he would every truly understand how Emma could feel the way she did about herself especially when he cared about her so much.

"You're going to get through this." Kristen's voice lured him from his inner musings and redirected his attention to the woman frowning slightly at his side.

Kristen stood and Will did the same, releasing his grip on the dainty hand that had found his only long enough to thank her for her time.

They didn't talk a lot on the way home but he had stopped by the store to pick up a case of Ensure.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma stood stock still in the darkened bedroom, for the first time examining the dress that carried with it so much expectation. She had shoved it to the back of her closet so Will wouldn't catch sight of it but the white fabric hadn't ceased to call out to her like some sort of siren song and Sophie's words that she would be radiant and take Will's breath away seemed to be on a permanent loop in her head. They were the reason that one week before she would officially become a wife she was frozen in front of her reflection, brow furrowed as she inspected what should be every young women's dream from childhood on and detected a nightmare.

Staring back at her was not the blushing bride that all the magazines proclaimed she would magically transform into with enticing bold lettering and numerous exclamations points. She didn't see a woman excited about the journey she was about to embark on with the man that had stayed by her side through so much. She didn't see her future, their future. What she saw was uncertainty tainted with flaws the world wasn't aware of.

Staring back at her was a middle-aged, red-headed woman covered in freckles with a pudgy face and colossal thighs. Staring back at her was a list of diagnosis the guests would never know about and scars that would be hidden beneath a beautiful façade. Like the imperfections only the artist would detect in the masterpiece the world embraced.

The dress that flowed from her body, pooling gently at her feet seemed nothing but a cruel joke. People would see what they wanted to see and she would smile and thank them for their kindness and not believe a word because the woman they perceived was not the woman she identified with. Maybe she wasn't alone in that. No one person could ever truly be aware of another's inner state.

Carefully she gathered the dress in her hands, raising it up until the scars that littered her thigh clashed with the picture the dress was trying to present. Slowly she settled on to the floor not caring if she wrinkled the material that still remained bunched at her waist so she could see the scars that mocked everything she was trying to be. Her thigh looked disgusting, huge and obnoxious and for a moment she could vaguely recall how it used to be when she had weighed less. It was that fleeting image that brought the tears.

"Hey, you okay?"

Emma glanced up sharply at the proximity of Will's voice, her own cognitive whirlwind having drowned out his entrance. Hastily she wiped at her face not wanting him to see her so vulnerable but his hand caught hers before she could pull the dress down and cover her thigh.

"Don't." He whispered, placing his palm flat against her leg in the same manner he had the other night.

Desperately Emma searched around for something to say, anything to take her mind off of where his hand was and what it covered. "You're not supposed to see me."

Will smiled, brushing his thumb across her cheek blurring the trail of a recent tear. "Sweetie, tradition went out the window when your Maid of Honor decided to wear a pants suit." He offered a lopsided grin before he settled down beside her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her and the oversized gown into his lap.

"You're going to be beautiful." He spoke softly, tracing nonsensical patterns across her forearm with one hand while he intertwined the other with one of hers.

"I'm going to be a joke." Emma ground out before she could stop herself noticing with a wince that he tensed beneath her intensifying her need to clarify. "Made to look pretty but underneath the dress…"She trailed off when Will hushed her

"Underneath this dress is the most stunning woman I have ever seen." He supplied, shifting slightly so he could run his fingers over her thigh, over the scars that only they would know existed, the glimpses of her past still trying to steal her future.

"Everyone is going to be staring at me." Emma sniffled, snuggling further into his embrace.

"Forget about them. Focus on me." Will placed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck. "I want to take you out tonight." He murmured against the spot he had just kissed, "but I think that maybe you should change, and I want you to dress up."

"Why?" Emma questioned suddenly curious about his plans.

"Just because," He answered and she could hear his grin. "We don't need a reason. The night will give us one."

Emma bit her lip as he untangled himself from her and stood, slowly making his way across the room.

"You have an hour." He said casually, propping himself up in the doorway before he turned and headed down the hall.

Giving her a time limit was something they had both agreed was necessary ever since it had become apparent that getting dressed was not something she could tackle easily. If she knew she didn't have to worry about the time she would end up spending hours in front of the mirror checking her body from every possible angle and the room would be a sea of discarded outfits.

On more than one occasion before they had begun setting a limit Emma had ended up curled up in a ball on the floor disgusted with every piece of clothing she owned, convinced they all made her look fat.

Getting out of the dress was easier than getting it on had been and she was thankful she hadn't tried to zip the back as she slid it off carefully avoiding her minimally clothed reflection. Buried in the back of her closet, near where the wedding gown had been was an evening dress her mother had once purchased. She had come into its possession before the eating disorder but as soon as her fear of appearing overweight had crept in it had been delegated to the very dark recesses of her room. Tonight she dug around for it, hoping it wouldn't be too much.

Despite herself she smiled when she felt the material between her fingertips, light and flowing. She waited to glance in the mirror until she was holding it in front of her body, the deep purple article a stark contrast to the white she had just put away.

It was shorter than she was comfortable with, coming to just below mid-thigh, resting lightly against her skin as she pulled it on. The collar was low, a gathered v-cut, again revealing more skin than she was usually alright with showing and she wondered briefly what had possessed her mother to buy it. It had a banded natural waist with a gathered panel that draped down the center that Emma wasn't sure she liked feeling as though it drew attention to the area she wanted people to ignore. The actual dress portion hung easily staying in place when she walked. As she stared once again at a drastically altered reflection she still felt like life was mocking her, like any women she encountered would scorn her for even trying to dress up as they did.

For a while she experimented with her hair before deciding on leaving it down, the slight natural wave causing it to cascade around her shoulders. She applied her make-up darker than usual, giving her eyes a sort of smoky look that she hoped Will would like. The night she had dressed up for the fair in Virginia he had seemed appreciative. She applied her lipstick heavier as well, her eyes momentarily transfixed by the red that almost seemed unnatural when compared to her usual softer shade. Finishing off her look were the shoes, black strappy sandals with a slight heel that she desperately hoped she wouldn't trip in. With a steadying breath and no further glances in the direction of the mirror she tip-toed out into the living room.

Will was standing in front of the couch, dressed in a crisp, white, button-down dress shirt with a pair of dark blue jeans, his smile spreading across his entire face as she took a step in his direction.

"I'm overdressed." Emma blurted out, instantly mortified that she had misunderstood him but his hand caught her wrist before she could turn around.

"That's the point and you're perfect." He murmured, his eyes traveling up and down her body.

He leaned in for a slow kiss, his arms resting over her hips whispering when he pulled away that he wanted to show her off. Emma blushed and tried to look down but his thumb and index finger caught her chin, steadying her for another kiss.

* * *

**Will's POV**

The first thing he noticed was the amount of stares Emma was receiving as they strolled aimlessly through downtown Lima. She was nervous, he could tell, about the way she was dressed but he could also tell that she was oblivious to the way people were reacting to her, especially the men. He was far from unaware of that. In fact the reason his arm now boldly encircled her waist was the result of a particularly lengthy appraisal from a middle-aged man that had quite literally done a double take as he had walked by.

From the way Emma was acting, the manner in which she side-stepped closer to him and fixed her eyes on the ground it was clear that the lingering look had not gone undetected. It was also apparent that she was misinterpreting what Will had seen plain as day. People were admiring her and she was assuming they were passing judgment. By the way her eyes were trained on the ground he could see she was becoming distressingly self-conscious.

Removing his hand from her waist Will gently grabbed her hand pulling backwards slightly so that she would turn to face him. "Have you not noticed," he whispered drawing her in closer so that his lips were inches from her ear, "that people can't take their eyes off of you? How can you possibly think you're not beautiful when you have men nearly tripping over themselves to risk a second look?"

"But he was staring-" Emma began and Will placed a finger on her lips shushing her protest.

"Of course he was staring. I'm staring." Before she could respond he pulled her in for a kiss, taking his time as the stood in the center of the sidewalk hoping that every last man that had dared to so much as cast a glance in her direction was watching as he claimed what belonged to him.

They continued their leisurely pace letting the soft, mellow tones of a tenor saxophone playing on a street corner wash over them as they laughed and chatted and let the world believe they had a reason for being as presentable as they were. For a moment his eyes landed on the car Emma hadn't realized they were approaching, caught up in a story from her sophomore year about almost going out on the field with the wrong marching band at a competition because the uniforms had been so similar. He listened, shaking his head in amazement that she had been so nervous about the performance that she hadn't noticed everyone staring until the director had tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to her own band. He didn't want this moment to end, Emma appearing care-free despite the heavy issues that had been discussed earlier in the day. As the car loomed ever closer he hoped it wouldn't.

Carefully he opened the door behind the driver's side digging around for the couple bottles of Ensure he had thrown in at the last minute. Kristen had suggested they start her on them as soon as possible and while Emma had been changing he had packed them.

As he had expected when he turned around, bottles in hand, Emma's face fell and she shook her head slightly.

"Before you say anything, would you agree that everyone tonight thinks we have a reason to be dressed up?" Will asked, still taken aback by how radiant she looked, how much healthier she appeared now as she stood in the faint glow of the street lights.

Emma nodded and Will grinned before he disappeared into the car again resurfacing with two empty water bottles. "I know it's not very high class but," carefully he poured a bottle of ensure into the plastic container, "no one is going to think twice about what we are drinking."

"We?" Emma questioned with a relieved yet curious smile on her face that he found absolutely endearing.

"I figured I would have one too." He said as he handed her the water bottle and filled the next one.

No real harm would come of him partaking in what was mandated for her and considering they were out in public he had wanted to make her as comfortable as possible about what she was doing and why. He knew that a part of her would probably rationalize that the Ensure was okay because he was consuming the same amount of calories but he also knew that another part of her would be grateful for his not subjecting her to walking around town downing the stuff by herself. No one else would have noticed if she had but she was an expert at projecting her insecurities onto others. Tonight was about her, not the Ensure cocktail she was drinking at the suggestion of a Nutritionist.

"Thank you." Emma whispered while she took a tentative first sip.

Will didn't say anything, merely placing his arm back around her waist as they once again started off in a random direction with no destination in mind. It was nice, walking in step beside her with no real need to be anywhere other than right where he was as they fell again into the rhythm of a blessedly light conversation.

* * *

"You taste like strawberries and cream." Will murmured as he continued kissing Emma after the front door closed.

The last half hour of their date had proven difficult for him and his hands had seemed to generate a mind of their own, finding excuses to linger on different parts of her body, his desire to touch her only intensified by the way she had giggled and stepped to the side with a playfulness in her eyes that had begged him not to back down.

Now as he led her as far as the living room before giving into the temptation to run his hands through her hair and plant kisses along her neck he had no intention of doing anything other than loving her.

Moritz, sitting by his feet with a maddening patience, his body rocking back and forth as he wagged his tail enthusiastically, leash in mouth, seemed to have other plans.

To Will's surprise Emma bent down to grab the leash before he had even considered doing it, much more content to continue his exploration of her neck. Reluctantly he pulled his attention away from Emma and focused it on the retriever watching closely for any sign of discomfort, hoping he wouldn't see any.

Emma and Moritz had been gradually building on the relationship their training endeavors had laid the foundation for and although the dog still crept away in tense situations he no longer went out of his way to avoid Emma when she became slightly upset. For a while every time she had so much as sighed in frustration the dog had sought refuge in another room which had only compounded the situation.

Never in a million years would he have expected Emma to be as adept with the dog as she was. There had actually been a session the other day where he had been stumped about how to get Moritz to do something; cover his nose with his paw, only getting as far as the young dog waving endlessly in the hopes of a treat. It had been Emma who had suggested placing a hair tie loosely around the end of his muzzle and clicking when he brought his paw up to remove it. The session had turned into a prime example of behavior being variable when Will had ended with something Moritz knew how to do; playing dead. He had kept wagging his tail so Will had simply waited unfortunately the reason for his withholding of the treat had been misinterpreted by the dog who had reasoned that pawing his nose had gotten him treats earlier and had pawed his face while laying down. It had been too cute for Will to pass up so he had rewarded it and now when the dog played dead he covered his face with his paw.

It was amazing how he could reward one behavior over and over and seem to make no progress but reward just one behavior that the dog came up with on its own and it was almost a sure fire bet that it would be cemented. If that wasn't proof that figuring something out without someone's help made it more likely to stick he didn't know what was and it reminded him of Emma.

Early in their relationship he had wanted to rush in and save the day. He had wanted to be her hero and somehow beat the eating disorder into submission by his sheer presence. As time wore on and he began to learn exactly what it was he was up against he had realized Emma was going to have to figure it out for herself and like dog training, he hoped that because she was the one forging her own path, devising her own behavior, that she wouldn't lose her footing.

Shaking his head slightly to unhinge his thoughts he followed Emma out the door delighted that Moritz had not displayed any outward signs of fear as Emma had bent over him to attach his leash.

He stopped on the porch surveying his personal picture of perfection still dressed in the garment that had been tormenting him all evening marching Moritz over to a tree. Her back was turned and he took the opportunity to study her body, the way her upper arms, still slender, were not obviously too thin, his eyes lingering on the outline of her chest barely visible in the night as he remembered a time when the dress would have hung off of an emaciated frame.

Back inside Will watched silently from his perch on the bed while Emma undressed, snagging a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, two clothing options that did not go unnoticed. Standing up he gently took hold of her arm, hushing the question that had formed on her lips as he led her over to the mirror.

Carefully he placed both hands on her hips, remembering the night he had caressed her in this very place and as he thought about how he had found her in the wedding dress earlier he became determined to understand.

"Tell me what you don't like." He whispered, sweeping her hair away from her ear, slowly removing the shirt she had only put on seconds before. "Tell me what you see, show me." Will added quickly taking one of her hands and placing it on her stomach.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

Emma glowered at her naked upper half, unhindered by the fact that Will was staring at her exposed skin but burdened by what she saw reflected back. Gently she removed her hand from beneath his making sure it hovered just inches above the part of her she didn't want to feel.

"I see fat." Emma whispered more to the woman boring into her eyes than the man standing behind her.

"Where?" Will prompted gently, replacing his hand on her hip.

Staying silent Emma forced herself to keep her eyes open as she ran one hand over her stomach, turning her body to the side, rotating her head so she could still see her reflection. "Here," She whispered, leaving her hand flat against her abdomen, images of the way it used to feel and look flashing into her mind's eye before she could stop them. "And here," Emma moved her hand to her upper arm, poking at the flesh there with her index finger, cringing when it moved. "And my thighs, I hate my thighs but mostly it's my stomach. I used to stand in front of the mirror and breathe in as much as I could and just stare. I would imagine that I was that person, that person who had clearly visible ribs, success, but I could never get there. That person in the mirror, the one that didn't breathe, she was always better than me, tinier and yet at the same time she was me and I hated her for that."

Emma studied Will, watching with unabashed curiosity the way his hands slid around her torso, clasping together around her stomach. "Can I tell you something, something that you have to promise to not take the wrong way?" He asked quietly into her ear, his breath warm and inviting.

She only nodded, granting him the permission for the promise she hoped she was able to honor.

"I like you better this way." He said slowly as though he was second-guessing every word, the space they were taking up in the room. "I like that when I place my hands on your stomach it's not flat." Will pressed his palm into her abdomen and for once Emma didn't cringe, caught up in wondering what it had felt like for him to touch her when she had been so thin. "When I grab you by the arm, my hand doesn't close the way it used to and I no longer feel like I'm going to break your wrist if I do this." Will gently encircled his fingers around her wrist and Emma was entranced by the sight of his hand so large against her arm.

She remained still as Will continued his journey over various parts of her body, drawing her attention to things she had never considered like his being able to kiss her shoulder and not detect prominent bones or run his fingers along her back and not feel her ribs. She blushed when he whispered about an added bonus and gently cupped a breast. It was still very difficult for her to accept her increased chest size when for so long it had been a sign of being fat but with his appreciation, it was getting easier.

His arms were soon wrapped around her upper half, gathering her up for a tight hug that spoke of love, adoration and safety. She didn't say anything as he leaned over to pick up the shirt that had been deposited somewhat carelessly to the ground, sliding it on and moving them both towards the bed. He changed quickly into a pair of boxers and plopped down on the comforter, motioning for her to do the same.

As she lay next to him, her body molded to his, her forehead pressed into his warm chest she replayed the words he had just imparted, reliving the way his hands had lovingly caressed parts of her she still scrutinized, and smiled.

* * *

A/N: Again, my sincerest apologies for taking so long to update. I have been dealing with a lot of issues in my life that are very taxing both physically and mentally so many nights I wanted to write but simply didn't have the energy. Bear with me please! Thank you for your patience, and a special shout out to those of you that PM'd asking if I was alright. That meant the world to me!


	50. Chapter 49

A/N: Again I'm sorry for the time in between updates. I hope you can forgive me!

* * *

**Chapter Fifty**

**Emma's POV**

Before the moment had even arrived he had known he wasn't going to shove a piece of cake in her face. She was more than likely going to be nervous enough without him adding a mess into the equation. In a way what was about to happen was probably close to some equivalent of her worst nightmare. She had spoken often that when she ate she felt as though everyone was watching her. This time, that was going to be true.

Keeping his eyes trained on hers he mouthed that she would be fine as he lifted the small forkful of cake to her lips. She didn't hesitate like he thought she might and her gaze remained on his as she chewed and swallowed. The smile that graced her face moments later, unhindered by complicated thoughts he had been fearing was radiant and care-free and beautiful and unforgettable.

He doubted anyone else in the room had caught the quick display but that didn't matter because no one else would understand the importance of a simple smile after a piece of cake and as he dutifully accepted her bite of cake before leaning in for a kiss he paused long enough to whisper that he loved her.

As they sat down together and obliged the clinking of forks against wine glasses with a gentle kiss he allowed his mind to wander back to the way she had looked walking towards him, the sun seeming to dance across her skin, her hair perfect in the elegant up-do someone had decided upon and the expression in her eyes only one of love. In that moment, and the one later when he had kissed her for the first time as her husband instead of her boyfriend he had wanted to cry. Through everything life had thrown at them they had persevered and were one step closer to the future that for so long had been suspended, caught in the limbo of therapy sessions and hospitals and medication.

Her meal had been simple, a large salad with slices of oven roasted chicken sprinkled in along with finely grated cheese and a delicate spattering of dressing. When they had been deciding on food the prospect of eating a full meal in front of so many people had terrified her so they had compromised with a salad. She had been in a different place recovery wise then although he was still fairly certain she was probably relieved about the plate in front of her and that didn't bother him. The fact that she ate a decent-sized piece of cake while freely talking with people who came up to offer congratulations without appearing to be overcome with a fear of being seen was more than enough for him.

For the time-being he was content, sitting next to his wife surrounded by family and friends, occasionally taking a break to ensure the seemingly ever present ting of forks against glasses died down once in a while. Under the table his hand found one of hers, not for comfort as it had been in so many situations involving food, but because he simply wanted to be touching her.

As it was his mind wouldn't stop conjuring up scenarios for the night ahead. Over and over he had assured her that they didn't have to do anything if she was tired or second-guessing but she had always declined his out. They weren't going to a fancy hotel or straight to some romantic honeymoon destination. True to their penchant for not doing things traditionally they were going back to the apartment because it was there the he knew she would feel the most relaxed. Emma had protested the initial suggestion saying that she didn't want to be the reason they spent their wedding night at home but he had assured her he wouldn't have it any other way. Most of the guests thought they were leaving tonight for a get-a-way and he was okay with that. They really didn't need to know.

It was as the reception wore on, and the usual festivities had given way to people freely mingling and offering advice on how to be properly married that he had started to realize that some things everyone felt was their business and on that list of some things was Emma's health. So far, the only reprieve had been Sue, who had kept her comments to cracks about his hair, a snide remark about the Glee club performance that had been softened by a wink and two heart-felt hugs, one for each of them.

When her father walked up to them with a smile mentioning how proud her mother would be Will had figured they were home free. He had pulled her close then, knowing just how difficult it was for her, getting married, realizing one of her mother's dreams without her mother there to share it.

An awkward silence ensured as the trio stood facing each other, no one sure of what to say in the aftermath of the comment.

"How are your eating habits then, tweetiebug? The man's eyes searched those of his daughters' with a relentless intensity that left Will examining the remaining liquid resting at the bottom of his glass.

As a concerned father he had the right to ask, that Will would never deny him. As a guest, a family member at his daughter's wedding Will thought the question was incredibly insensitive but he had never been in the man's shoes and maybe if the roles were switched he would be asking too.

Emma had gone out of her way to isolate herself from family and friends throughout the course of her eating disorder and he had no doubt that if he hadn't been persistent in seeing her so much that eventually the same fate might have befallen him once the novelty of their relationship had become replaced with the knowledge that it was that relationship that was jeopardizing her ability to hide what she had come to rely on as necessary.

Standing there stealing glances at his wife who seemed to be regarding her father with a mixture of disbelief and slight anger, he felt guilty. It wasn't fair that instead of seeing his daughter on her wedding day he was seeing an opportunity to check up on her well-being. And maybe it wasn't fair that he thought it wasn't fair. After all, maybe these were normal questions asked by well-intentioned parents. And maybe they were abnormal ones, asked in desperation by concerned parents. He really didn't know.

"They're good dad. I'm working on it." Emma replied evenly, her step backwards not unnoticed by Will, her silent, probably unconscious attempt to get away from the situation she didn't want to be in.

"I'm only askin' because you're my daughter and this old man gets worried once in a while. You don't call very often." He smiled then, a combination of hope and an attempt to placate the conversation.

"I know dad." This time Emma looked down, choosing to meet the floor over her father's imploring face and Will couldn't blame her. As it was he was only surrupticiously watching her and avoiding him.

This wasn't the first time he had seen what started out as a casual conversation littered with congratulations and comments of how lucky she was delve into the murky depths of psychiatric issues. Problems to be navigated without ever using the actual words but instead substitutes like 'that eating thing' and 'diet.' He knew they were only concerned and doing what humans do, inquiring but he still felt it was all out of place and it made him wonder if she was forever destined to be reminded of something she was still working to forget.

A handful of people had clasped her on the shoulder or drawn her in for a bear hug only to whisper that she needn't worry about something so crazy as her becoming overweight. Of course, if these people were relatives their logic was peppered with stories of how scrawny she was as a child. Through all of this Emma smiled politely and he felt uncomfortable on her behalf usually studying his shoes until the subject changed or the person left.

Her father was moving to speak again when Sophia bounced over with a slightly uncoordinated spring in her step, her face flushed from an undetermined amount of alcohol. Will snorted into his glass when she came to an abrupt halt facing Emma's father, one hand raised in the traditional Vulcan salute.

"I need to speak with your daughter. It's a matter of utmost importance." Will blinked in surprise as the woman's face went from blissfully happy to serene and stoic in a matter of seconds as she delivered the line in a manner that would have made Leonard Nimoy proud before she whirled around and grabbed a confused Emma by the arm shooting Will a side-long glance indicating he should follow.

"I knew that her finding out Netflix streamed Star Trek Voyager would end badly. Would you believe me if I said I didn't know her?" Chaaya's voice was silken, warm and inviting and Will thought it endearing that she was trying to rationalize her girlfriend's behavior.

"Streaming Voyager, I might have to check that out and for the record, I wouldn't believe you, not for a second." Will replied, downing the last of his drink and heading over to the corner of the room to see what Sophia was whispering to his wife, wondering if it would be in English or some alien language.

"Do you want me to sock them? Spike their drinks? I will." Sophie fixed Emma with triumphant smile, a fire in her eyes that left Will thinking that the Cuban really would make good on her threats.

For the first time since the reception had began Emma burst out into a real laugh, not the cautious, well-timed ones she had been feeding those around her but an honest chuckle that only grew in intensity. Of course the fact that Sophia remained appearing so serious wasn't helping and soon he found that he was joining in, thankful for the woman's presence and unsurpassed ability to diffuse tense situations apparently even whilst slightly intoxicated.

Sophia was always able to take something the world viewed as serious and turn it into something humorous. She was the perfect offset for Emma, often getting her to lighten up on subjects he wasn't sure how to broach.

"Do you want to make an announcement?" Sophia pretended to hold a microphone to her mouth, holding up her glass as if making a toast. "Thank you everyone for coming. It means the world to us and I just wanted to let you know how truly grateful we are and because you all seem to feel that social norms don't apply to you and that you can ask incredibly personal questions, I'm eating. Stop fucking asking, oh and don't forget to sign the guestbook!"

Emma leaned over, pulling Sophia into a hug both of them lost in a fit of laughter that Will found contagious and refreshing and it wasn't long before Sophia had literally drug Chaaya out onto the dance floor saying something about dancing even despite the presence of her two left feet and as the song started to play Will turned to Emma.

"May I have this dance?" He questioned, holding out his hand, drawn in by the sight of her before him, captivated by the strands of perfectly curled hair that were left to frame her face.

Slowly he led her out onto the floor, a cacophony of cheers accompanying each step and he realized that apparently, even though they had already done the first dance, they were still, without a doubt, under watchful eyes.

He pulled Emma close, wrapping his arms around her waist and encouraging her to place her arms around his neck as he effortlessly slid into the rhythm of the song, content to just exist in the moment.

"The song's in Spanish." Emma whispered against him as though she were revealing a secret he wasn't aware of.

"I think," Will stepped away from Emma long enough to twirl her gently, "It was requested by a certain half of a certain couple just behind you."

Emma turned in his arms, and he followed her line of sight to the couple he had been speaking of. Sophia was slowly leading Chaaya across the dance floor and Will suspected that the building could have burned down around them and neither party would notice.

Sophia was smiling shyly, gazing into Chaaya's eyes as she leaned in for a kiss that left Will feeling like he was intruding on something private and special.

"What's it saying?" Emma asked, turning once again so that her face was now buried against his chest.

For a moment Will listened to Santana as she sang the song traditionally sung by a male, placing one hand under Emma's chin lifting her to face him. "Kiss me, kiss me a lot, for I'm scared to lose you afterwards. I want to have you so close, see myself in your eyes, see you next to me, think as if tomorrow I will be far, very far away from you." He spoke softly, his eyes not leaving hers as he lightly sang the chorus and leaned in for the kiss the song spent so much time alluding to noticing that a few other couples did the same.

* * *

**Emma's POV**

As Emma danced, listening to Will's translation, his voice low and smooth in her ear she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. They were both in the same boat, neither of their mother's were present but when she thought about it, having your mother not at your wedding because she had recently been placed in a nursing home and needed to be under constant supervision seemed far worse than your mother simply being dead.

So, as it was, their wedding was surrounded by such imperfections but one of the things she held onto was the cake and how she had been able to accomplish what she had dreamed of, eating a piece without being overcome with anxiety. Something that would undoubtedly seem painfully simple to the rest of the world, but to her it meant more than words would ever be able to articulate.

She had seriously considered Sophia's joking suggestion of an announcement about her eating. Never in her life had she been on the receiving end of so many compliments about how healthy she looked and on top of that were the comments that she had nothing to worry about when it came to becoming overweight. In a way Emma wished they would leave her alone. It wasn't their life to pry in even though she knew they meant well.

Will had been considerate with the cake and that left a smile on her face. He had forgone the usual tradition of slicing off a huge piece in favor of a small tidbit on a fork and she had purposefully kept her eyes on his as she had taken it, not wanting to see the faces fixed on them, watching her eat because no matter what she told herself, that's what people did at weddings when the first bite of cake was involved and when it was common knowledge that the bride was recovering from an eating disorder they weren't simply watching anymore, they were studying.

The night wore on and Emma felt herself growing tired on her feet, exhausted after having thanked so many people and listened to jokes riddled with stories punctuated with well-wishes. She was tired of the environment but she wasn't tired of Will who had become increasingly hands on as the reception carried out. Often she would feel him come up behind her, placing his hands on waist, leaving quick, chaste kisses on her neck, whispering that he loved her, calling her Mrs. Schuester and occasionally, good-naturedly whining about when they could leave.

Walking out to their car, hand in hand, doubled over in laughter at the antics of their friends and their shameless ploy in the form of an announcement that the newlyweds were leaving and wouldn't be reachable for a couple days Emma found herself excited rather than nervous about whatever their first night as husband and wife would entail.

Someone, and Emma had a feeling it was a group of teen-aged singing someone's, had window-chalked their rear window, letting the world know they were 'just married.' If Will hadn't known who the culprits were the golden star drawn next to the words was a dead give-away.

"At least they didn't tie cans on the back." Will grinned, opening her door and pausing to ensure all of her rebellious dress made it safely inside the vehicle before closing it.

They held hands the whole drive back and Emma waited for Will to let her out knowing that he wanted to play the role of a gentleman and selfishly, she wanted him to. She felt somewhat ridiculous walking up to the complex in a wedding dress, but when Will's hand blocked her from opening the front door she blushed.

"You know I have to." He whispered against her neck, scooping her up before she could react and carrying her bridal style over the threshold.

Emma gasped when he set her down, her eyes raking over the apartment that sometime during the day had been transformed. The furniture had been pushed back and small clusters of candles flickered in the darkness, bathing them both in a soft glow.

"I had some help." Will admitted with a blush, as he held her close from behind, his arms encircling her waist while his chin rested on the top of her head. "They haven't been lit long. I saw my accomplice driving away as we turned in." He mumbled as though reading her mind. "And no, I'm not telling you who."

"Where's Moritz?" Emma cut Will off slightly worried that the retriever would have been loose with candles burning and wondering why he wasn't greeting them at the door with his usual tail-thumping canine greeting she had grown to love.

"He's staying the night with a friend." Will smiled down at her before releasing his gentle grip on her waist.

"We have, for your drinking pleasure," He backed away towards the kitchen and she noticed the table was set for two, "wine," he held up a bottle she hadn't noticed that had been chilling in a container on the counter, "and Ensure." He motioned to the fridge with a grin that bordered on a laugh and Emma found herself smiling at the absurdity of having Ensure on their wedding night.

It was his way of turning it into a joke, the fact that she was still required to drink a bottle in the evening as well as one in the morning and she found herself incredibly touched that he was still making sure she stayed on track when it would have been so easy to go off.

"I'll have a small glass of wine thank you, and some Ensure later." Emma answered his unspoken question and he whirled around snatching up a couple glasses that she hadn't noticed sitting on the counter.

By the time they got to the living room, sitting on the floor with the wine glasses by their side they had given up on small talk and Emma found the taste of wine on his lips was not at all unpleasant. Slowly Will began to unzip the back of her dress and Emma helped him remove it by standing up. As soon as the dress hit the ground she blushed, acutely aware of his eyes traveling her body, resting appreciatively on the white lingerie Sophie had insisted upon.

"Look at me." Will whispered gently from his position on his knees, one hand grasped in his while the other rested softly on her hip.

Tentatively Emma listened, lifting her eyes until they found his, her stance wavering as she fought to obey his request.

"You're beautiful." He continued, his voice still barely above a whisper while he brushed his lips against the back of her hand before pulling her down against him.

She let herself get lost in his kisses as they trailed from her lips to her collar bone and down between her breasts seeming to leave her skin ablaze in the soft light afforded by the tiny flames around them. When he reached up to unhook her bra he paused, searching her face, conveying without words that anything they did tonight was perfectly fine with him, re-asking for the permission she was ready to give. Silently telling her they didn't have to make love if she wasn't ready and even though she wasn't making a sound, the voice behind her thoughts saying she wanted to, was deafening.

"I want to." Emma forced herself to speak the phrase out loud, wanting there to be no room for confusion. "Make love to me Will."

He smiled then, a brief interlude before his lips returned to hers and his hands unclasped the hook they had been resting upon. Warm kisses sprinkled along her neck distracted her from the fact that her bra now lay a few feet away in a heap on the floor and his whisper about her being beautiful as his fingers grazed her breasts chased away her self-consciousness.

Time slipped away, tucking itself into a different portion of her mind and soon she was stretched out before him, her bare skin glowing in the dim light as shadows danced across her forearms and torso. He hovered over her before lying down on his side inches away, placing one hand on her stomach and following its meandering path with gentle kisses.

"We have a problem." Emma tugged at his already loosened tie and he obliged by removing it. Without another word she began to unbutton his dress shirt while his hands still caressed her body and his breath tickled her breasts. She let her hands play across his chest, feeling empowered and bold in the moment, using the sensation to urge him to get rid of his slacks and the remaining barrier that rested beneath them.

When he moaned softly and wrapped his arms around her upper half, pulling her body flush against his a small worry nibbled at her mind. His fingers were resting easily on her sides and briefly she wondered how much of her ribs he could feel and how that probably differed from what he had once known.

"Stop it, stop thinking." Will murmured into her ear before dropping his hand between her legs and gently cupping her. "Don't think, just feel." He whispered as he began to move his hand and draw circles with his fingers until Emma was aware of nothing but the smell of scented candles and the sensations building in her body.

He rolled them over again, this time so that she was on her back, he on his side, one hand still between her legs while he used the other to support himself as he leaned over to plant kisses along her breasts, his tongue swirling in time with his fingers.

She didn't know how long they stayed in that position but soon her hands were fisted in the blanket beneath her and Will's contented chuckles when she moaned or called out his name were enough to spur her on. She let her legs fall open wider as he added another finger and she realized she wasn't sure when he had added the first couple before all thought ceased and she turned, biting down on his shoulder as her body tensed.

Will never stopped kissing her, trailing his mouth down between her breasts, to her stomach, along her ribcage and back up again until he paused at her shoulder obviously intent on leaving a mark. For a brief moment she wished he would stop so she could languish in the haze that had washed over her but before she could even string a sentence together her body began reacting again to his touch and he smiled when she moaned softly.

Slowly he withdrew the fingers that he hadn't stopped moving inside of her and she whimpered slightly at the loss. He crawled above her, lowering himself against her, supporting his weight on his elbows as he gazed into her eyes.

He was asking silently again and Emma only nodded and reached her hand down to brush against him causing him to groan under his breath. She gasped slightly when she felt him at her entrance and started to hold her breath as he began to push inside.

"Relax sweetheart." He breathed out, his breath warm against her ear, his voice taught with restraint.

Gently he inched inside of her, pausing for her to get used to the foreign sensation. It felt odd but not unpleasant, like she was full. He held himself still while she adjusted, his forearms beginning to shake with exhaustion and Emma experimentally wiggled her hips causing him to moan loudly and leave feverish kisses on her neck.

"Okay." She whispered knowing his eyes would be closed even if she did nod and she heard a rough "I love you" as he slid all the way in, past her barrier. Apologies fell from his lips as she winced slightly at the pain. Everything she had read had prepared her for much worse than what she was experiencing and it wasn't long before she raised her hips up to his, silently telling him to continue.

Lying there beneath him, watching his face awash in pleasure as he began to move in and out of her at a gradually increasing pace she felt at ease with the world, caught up in this one perfect moment. His hand once again sliding between them pulled her from her thoughts and she wrapped her arms around his waist as she came again seconds before he stilled above her. Selfishly she kept her eyes open, fixed on his face, watching as it contorted into pure pleasure before he very gently lowered himself on top of her, careful to still support most of his weight.

He rolled them over, the sudden absence of him within her leaving her missing something she didn't know she could miss. She blushed as she gazed into his eyes but he only kissed the tip of her nose and whispered that she was amazing.

They exchanged kisses for a while longer, Emma daring to take the time to explore his body in a manner that was both strange and welcoming. Before long she had turned in his arms, her back pressed against his chest, one of his legs resting between hers and she smiled into the candle light in the distance.

"What are you smiling about?" His breath was warm against her ear, his voice teasing, as though he knew she hadn't been aware he was watching so closely.

"Us," She stated simply before elaborating more for his benefit, "about how far we have come and now we have this whole future and well, so many times I gave up the idea of a future where I was happy but here it is, staring me in the face, us in the face. Thank you for staying by me Will, through everything." She waited anxiously while her words seemed to saturate the air around them and he sighed heavily against her.

"Leaving was never an option." He commented as he pulled them both up into a sitting position and Emma found herself on the verge of tears as thoughts swirled in her head. She had just made love to the man she wanted to spend her life with, her friend and now husband.

For the first time in longer than she could remember the idea of a future felt like it had a place in her life, a deserved place, not a mandated one dictated by those around her. For the first time she was able to really imagine what her life with Will could be like, going back to school in the fall, moving into a house and maybe, one day, starting a family.

So much of her life while trapped in the disorder had been about the pursuit of success, of being good enough at something others weren't. Right now, as she snuggled up to Will, she felt loved and cherished and on the right track that for once didn't involve counting calories or restricting. Whether this moment would fade she wasn't sure but for as long as it made itself available she was going to embrace it.

* * *

**Will's POV**

They had made love one more time that night and he had made sure to pay attention to every aspect of her body he knew she was still nervous about. He had lingered near the scars on her thigh, and told her she was gorgeous just the way she was.

Both of them had stopped after only two glasses of wine and it had been Emma's idea to poor them each some Ensure in a wine glass. Her unbridled laughter and the way she had looked, so naturally radiant dressed in his shirt as she had stood in the kitchen sipping at the drink between giggles was still playing in his mind. Considering how the day had gone, all the conversations they had been subjected to at the reception she had acted it were a normal day. Small things throughout the evening banished that notion, the way they would refer to each other as husband and wife, the wedding dress now draped carefully over a chair and the tux that rested on top of it. Little reminders that the day wasn't normal.

As he lay next to her in their bed he couldn't help but smile about her comment earlier where she had revealed that she was thinking about them. She hadn't said it but he had known that really meant she had been thinking about their future as a couple and the feeling of elation he got when he realized what that meant was indescribable.

For so long the disorder had stripped away any ambition she had for her future, encasing her in a world where food and its subsequent avoidance was the sole presiding focal point. Her days had become whittled away to nothing more than the hope that she might weigh less the next morning and she had abandoned the idea of what her future might hold in favor of how many calories she had consumed that day.

Now, after so much time and effort and patience, everything was finally paying off and for the first time since their relationship had began he could sense that she felt like she had a place in the world, with him.

He had meant it when he had said that leaving was never an option. Even when he had run off to the motel that night he had been unable to deal with her throwing up after his emotionally exhausting first appointment with Linda he hadn't ever considered walking away from her for good. It had been a weak point but a necessary one that had helped her to see just how much her disorder was affecting him.

It was only within the last few months that he had allowed himself to imagine being with her the way he was tonight. Some days he had been so worried about her health both mentally and physically that it literally had been the last thing on his mind. Looking down at her, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept curled up against him he couldn't believe how fortunate he was.

As pulled her closer against him and deposited a soft kiss on the top of her head he whispered that he loved her smiling when she groggily responded with something that in her mind had probably made perfect sense.

"I told you we would be okay." He spoke softly against her neck recalling the night he had first discovered the severity of what was going on and how worried he had been, how the words had been a desperate attempt to placate his fear as he had held her close.

They had come so far since then, pushed their way through so much and he would do it again, all of it, because it was what had brought them to where they were now; in love, married and excited about what their life together held, their life without the debilitating disorder that had tried to take her away from him. Tried.

"Can we have blueberry pancakes for breakfast?" Emma's slurred voice startled him from his reverie and he smiled through the darkness.

"Don't think I haven't forgotten about someone putting syrup in my hair." He teased, threading his fingers through her hair knowing that he would make the trip to the store for blueberries, delighted that she had said what she wanted before he had been forced to ask.

He caught a glimpse of their future in her request, of them sitting down to meals and the contents on the plate being secondary to their discussion about their day, of her sipping a cappuccino on a blustery winter afternoon, of them sharing a banana split that melted in the heat of summer before they could finish it.

He caught a glimpse of their future in her request, a future where the disorder took a back seat to them, to their relationship, to her life and his.

* * *

**End of Part One**

A/N: Thank you so much for all of your support throughout this story and a special thanks to faded_glass and Sierra Jae for their encouragement in the undertaking of a part two. I'm not sure when part two will be started but watch out for it!

Again, thank you to everyone who has remained loyal to this adventure, your reviews have helped me through many things. The subject matter in this story is very near to my heart and I cannot even begin to describe how flattered I am that so many of you have contacted me about how reading of Emma's struggle has helped you to understand eating disorders and mental illness more. That is truly the greatest thing that has come from this, teaching others, and one more time, I thank you.


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